


My Cup of Tea

by bibliosoph



Category: Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:40:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 28,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22328713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliosoph/pseuds/bibliosoph
Summary: Baz is the son of Mr. Pitch, the CEO of Pitch Industries. Instead of focusing on his business studies like he knows he should, Baz spends his time at the local tennis club. He has an obsession with the polo shirts, the courts, the racquets, and even a new obsession with the boy who works at the coffee shop next door: Simon Snow.Simon is a hard-working student who hasn't decided on a major. He has decided that he's got a passion for coffee, tea, and scones, so he works at the local coffee shop. His life is boring until one day a certain customer with long hair and pale skin comes in, fresh off the court and ready to steal his heart: Baz.
Relationships: Penelope Bunce & Simon Snow, Simon Snow/Agatha Wellbelove, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Agatha Wellbelove, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 7
Kudos: 49





	1. One

Baz had a secret. As the son of the esteemed CEO of Pitch Industries, Baz was forced to maintain an honorable lifestyle. Healthy choices, good grades, and a fine fashion sense. His secret came in the form of racquets, polos, and yellow Wilson balls. In his spare time, away from the limelight, Baz played tennis at a local tennis club. He chose one that was far enough from his dorm so that no one would dare follow him across town, but it was still in a nice part of the city. It wasn't like his father wouldn't approve of him playing tennis, he'd always found tennis and golf to be the perfect spawns of many glorious business deals, but Baz knew his father would be ashamed of what he did at the tennis club.

His whole life was in the public eye, which he wouldn't have minded (he loved the attention at times) if he didn't feel like he had something to hide. He wasn't ashamed of himself for being gay, but he was afraid of what his father would think. What the world would think. He needed to be a polished representative of the Pitch family in order to become the CEO of Pitch Industries one day, and he knew that his sexuality would combat his father's old fashioned tastes.

The tennis club was the one place that Baz felt he could be himself. He flirted with other men and got some phone numbers. He had friends and crushes there, and, more importantly, he had a life that he was proud of. He was Baz in the purest form: no secrets, no masks. He was free to pull his long hair back and wear a white visor while he played with cute boys. He could talk to whoever he wanted to without fearing what his father would think. It was his one safe place, and he loved it with everything in him.

One day, after a particularly grueling match with a hot, muscular bloke called Kevin, Baz decided that he needed a drink. He was exhausted from the night before because he'd stayed up studying for a Latin test, and then he played his heart out during the largest heat wave London had ever seen. He decided that an iced tea was exactly what he needed after the match. He remembered seeing a coffee shop a few doors down from the tennis club, and he decided to give it a try.

"Kevin?" Baz asked in the changing room. He and Kevin were changing from their tennis clothing to their street clothing. Baz missed his while polo already.

"What's up, Pitch?"

Baz couldn't help but blush a bit. He had been growing quite close to Kevin over the past week or so, and their matches had become a daily event. Baz let Kevin beat him every time, of course. Kevin was far more serious about the sport than Baz was.

"I'm gonna grab a tea from the shop nearby," he said. He wasn't sure why he felt so sheepish. It was just a coffee. "Do you want to come with?"

Kevin slid his shirt on and looked at his watch. "Maybe some other time, Pitch. I've gotta dash. My friends are all coming over later tonight."

Baz's heart pounded in his chest, hoping that Kevin would ask him to come along. "Oh, okay," he said, the hope still lingering in his voice.

Kevin smiled and shut his locker, swinging his tennis bag around his shoulder. "Catch you tomorrow, mate."

Defeated, Baz finished changing. He slowly zipped up his bag, wondering why things weren't working out as he had wanted them to. He had been nothing but flirtatious, but it didn't seem like Kevin was getting the message. How else was Baz supposed to tell him that he desperately wanted to kiss him without actually doing so? He sighed and slung his bag over his shoulder and took his hair down.

As Baz made his way out of the tennis club, he felt a certain weight on his chest. He came to the club to be himself, but being himself made him less popular than the person he pretended to be at school. He wondered if Dev and Niall, his two best mates, would like him for the person he actually was, and not the sarcastic, witty person he always pretended to be.

He checked his phone quickly to see if Kevin had dropped him a message thanking him for the match, but he hadn't. Baz wasn't surprised. He always texted Kevin first, and even then it would take him ages to respond. Baz tucked his phone back into his pocket, feeling his heart break a little more.

This just didn't seem to be his day.


	2. Two

This was not Simon's day. He had been late to class because he'd overslept, and then he failed an English pop quiz because he hadn't done the reading the night before. Now he was exhausted and absolutely over his job. The Daily Grind was the last place he wanted to be at the moment, but he was there anyway. The bills had to be paid, or so Penny said.

"Will that be all?" he asked the customer in front of him, a middle-aged woman with yoga clothes on. She scanned the menu one last time before nodding. "Your total will be three fifty."

She dug out her wallet and gave Simon a five pound note, which meant that Simon had to go into the register and cough up the one fifty, which meant that he had to touch coins, which he really hated doing. The metallic smell of the coins disgusted him. Nonetheless, he handed the woman her change, and she put the fifty pence into the tip jar. Simon smiled at her, thankful for her contribution to his university fund. Then she went on her way and Simon took the next customer's order.

It was tedious process.

A few minutes later, the door chimed again, signaling another customer. Simon had served his last customer two minutes prior and was taking a break on his phone. He was deep into a game of Tetris when the door chimed. He looked up, pausing his game, to help the customer. He tried to suppress his annoyance, which became easier when he saw the customer's face.

He was a tall man with long dark hair and grey eyes. His skin was pale, almost translucent, and he reminded Simon of a vampire. Not in a creepy way, of course. Like one of the vampires in Twilight. A hot vampire.

Shut up, he told himself.

Baz's lousy day quickly got better when he made eye contact with the cute barista behind the counter at the coffee shop he'd stumbled into called The Daily Grind. He smiled softly, his tennis club side, his real side, still showing. He wasn't ready to be a Pitch, not quite yet. First, he needed to get this boy's name.

"Hello," Baz said as cooly as possible.

Simon noticed that his voice was deep and velvety. He hadn't heard a voice as intriguing as this customer's before. "Um, hi," he said. "Welcome to The, uh, Daily Grind. What can I get you?"

Way to play it cool, Simon, he said to himself. He was so embarrassed, and the tall guy just chuckled, his deep voice sending quakes through Simon's whole body. Simon tried to get a hold of himself, but the moment he looked at the tall boy's eyes again...

"Did you catch that?" the boy asked.

Simon looked at him for a moment before realizing that he'd rambled out his order already. He blushed furiously, his whole face feeling red. He readjusted his beanie to try and occupy himself. "Um, could you repeat that?"

The tall boy smiled. This was not helping Simon focus at all.

"Of course. I said I'll take a large iced tea," he said. "Simon."

"How did you—"

"Name tag," the tall boy smiled, pointing to Simon's black name tag that he'd written his name on the first day he worked at the Grind. It was in his usual sloppy print that was hardly legible to most. He'd tried to decorate it with a blue flower, but it had become smudged over the months and now looked like he'd spilled something on it instead

"Right." Simon nodded and tapped the order into the electronic register, his cheeks burning. At least the register could hide his blush. "Will that be all?"

The tall boy looked at the menu one last time before turning back to Simon. "Actually, no. Can I also have your number?" Baz was proud of himself for that one.

Simon blinked once before nodding. "Heh, yeah. Sure. 'Course. Let me just—" he reached for a pen and a piece of paper or a napkin or something, but Baz handed him his phone instead.

"Here," he said. "Just type it in."

Simon took the phone and typed in his number. He messed up twice, putting in a four instead of a five and then an extra zero at the end. He mumbled under his breath, wondering when he would manage to get through this torture. He handed the phone back to the tall boy.

"Snow," the tall boy said, looking at the phone.

Simon nodded. "Stupid, isn't it?"

"I don't know," the boy said. "I quite like it."

Simon blushed again, hating himself for it, and then went to go fix the boy's tea.

"It's Baz, by the way," he boy said as Simon handed him the iced tea. "In case you were wondering."

Simon smiled. "Well, Baz, I hope to see you round again."  
Baz chuckled. "Oh, believe me. You most definitely will."


	3. Three

"What's got you smiling so hard?"

Simon snapped back to reality. He had been spending the last minute or so staring into space with a stupid grin on his face. He blushed and cleared his throat.

"Nothing," he said.

His flatmate and best friend, Penny, saw through his little disguise. She hadn't seen Simon this happy in a long time and she needed to know what got him feeling so light. She knew him better than anyone and wanted to be the first one to know why he was beaming from ear to ear. It was rare to see him so gleeful. He had a tough life and she had done everything she could do to try and make life easier for him but he looked different than he ever had before. The only time he had looked remotely this happy was when...

"Simon, have you met a girl?"

Simon rolled his eyes but his smile still remained. "Something like that."

Penny sat down in front of him. He had been on the couch since he had gotten home and had been mostly unresponsive until now.

"You have to tell me everything!"

"There's not much to tell."

"Come on," Penny begged. "I want details and I want them now! What's her name? How did you two meet? What does she look like?"

Simon thought for a moment before responding. "We met at The Daily Grind."

Penny couldn't contain her joy. Simon hadn't been with anyone since his high school girlfriend. When that went to hell, Penny didn't know if he'd ever meet someone who would make him feel that happy ever again.

"Name?"

"Ba— Brianna."

"Brianna?" She raised an eyebrow at him. His answer seemed a little forced like maybe he was hiding this girl's true identity. She said nothing. She didn't want to spoil his mood.

"Yeah."

"What does she look like? How did it happen?"

Simon laughed at her enthusiasm. "I don't know, Penny. Pale, dark hair. Beautiful eyes and the most amazing cheek bones."

"Oh, she sounds so pretty! So like did you give her a receipt with her number on it?"

Simon took a deep breath. He looked kind of upset now but Penny didn't know why. He was weird like that sometimes so she just let it slide.

"Other way around, actually."

"So she definitely thinks you're cute. That's great, Si! You have to call her."

"You think?"

She nodded. "I haven't seen you smile this hard since Agatha. You have to at least give it a try, you know? Maybe she's the next love of your life. Wouldn't you at least like to see where it goes?"

Simon nodded. "Yeah, yeah that sounds nice. I really would like to see where it goes."

He got up and planted a kiss on Penny's forehead. "Thanks, Penny. You're the best. I'm going to go see if this will work out."

He left the sitting room, leaving Penny alone. She smiled to herself. She felt almost proud of herself for getting him back on the dating horse. She knew that he probably would have called this girl on his own at some point but she knew that he needed the nudge to move things along.

She hoped, more than anything, that it would work out for him. He couldn't take anymore heartbreak in his life.


	4. Four

Baz looked at himself in the mirror and could not help but feel a wave of disappointment wash over him. He adjusted his tie, making sure it was straight, and ran his fingers through his hair. He knew that the man standing before him was powerful and respected, but it was nothing like the man he wanted to be.

He took a deep breath and took his phone out of his pocket. He scrolled through his various apps and contacts until he stumbled across the one he so desperately wanted to call.

Name:  
Simon Snow

Company:  
Cute Coffeehouse Boy

He smiled at the contact and then slid his phone back into his pocket. He needed to think of something to take his mind off of Simon. He needed to prepare for this meeting and his battle with the most fearsome creature on the planet: his father.

He made his way out of his office and down the hall to the lifts. He pressed the up button and waited impatiently for the sleek, metallic doors to slide open and allow him entrance. He pressed the button, the one all the way at the top, and let the lift carry him through the beating heart of the monstrous building. He looked at his watch, making sure he was on time, just as the lift doors opened. He looked at them in disgust and walked through them. 

Baz was used to getting glanced at as he walked down the hallways of his father's impressive building, but they were never the same looks he received at the courts. These were looks of fear. They all knew his father, knew what he was capable of, and expected the same from him. He couldn't blame them for the way they treated him, though. He had been raised to be a Pitch and that meant being the best. Throughout his life, Baz had been taught how to succeed. It didn't matter if anyone liked him as long as he was above them. 

When he reached his father's office, Baz paused in front of the two heavy doors. He took a deep breath, composed himself, and entered. 

"Father, you requested to see me?" Baz said as he shut the doors behind him. 

His father looked up from his work and at his son. The resemblance between the two was minimal. Baz always believed that he looked like his mother. His father tried to minimize their interactions because he agreed with Baz. He looked like her. Too much like her. Sometimes, when Baz was angry with his father, he liked to think of his mother. She was the reminder that his father had a heart, even if he liked to pretend it had been lost when his mother had died. 

"Yes, Tyrannus," his father said. "Sit." 

Baz did as he was told, even though he hated it when his father called him by his first name.

"May I ask what this is about?" 

His father shot him a look.

Baz bit his tongue. It was all he could do to keep himself from losing it. "Sir?"

His father repositioned himself in his chair and leaned back in his seat. "Your studies. I have received a notification from Professor Douglas who informed me that you refused to meet the deadline on your latest assignment. She said, upon further reflection, that you haven't been meeting a majority of your deadlines. Of course I said "No, that's not my son. My son is a Pitch and Pitches always do their work on time and get top marks." I thought I should ask you about this whole ordeal, Tyrannus. I knew it could not be true."

Baz thought about how he was really spending his time. He thought about the cute boys at the tennis courts and how they seemed like a much more productive use of his time. He didn't even want to be a business man like his father. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do, but he knew that his perfect life would have nothing to do with money and secrets and lies. He would be just as content with a small, boring life with Simon Snow. 

"It was a misunderstanding," Baz explained, pulling himself out of his daydream.

"That's what I suspected," his father said. 

Baz got up to leave.

"That's why I had her fired."

Baz turned around, astonished at his father's actions. "What?"

"I had her fired. Professors should not be so unreasonable with their students. You're a Pitch. You don't get bad marks. Since you did, I knew there must be a mistake."

"But how did you--"

"The head of the school owed me a favor." 

"Right."

Baz turned to leave, trying to suppress his anger. He knew that his father would always be ruining lives to get his way, and he didn't know how much longer he could keep his feelings buried inside. He couldn't fathom telling his father any of this, so for now he just left the office and headed back downstairs. 

The whole time he could only think of one thing: Simon Snow. 

He needed to call him.


	5. Five

Simon spent all day trying to find Baz on social media. He searched for him when he was in class and when he was on the tube home. He couldn't find anything, of course, because he hadn't gotten Baz's last name. And Baz, he figured, was some kind of nickname so it didn't bring up any promising results. When he finally got home at the end of the day, he was exhausted and annoyed. He wondered why Baz hadn't called yet. He wondered why he cared so much. 

Penny was waiting for him when he got home. She sprang to her feet and offered him a hug and a cup of tea. He took both gladly and sat down on the sofa. He noticed another cup of tea on the table, still steaming, and knew that they had company. He wasn't sure if he could handle dealing with someone right now. Unless it was Baz. Simon frowned, annoyed at himself for overthinking this. 

"Agatha," Penny said, noticing Simon's annoyed looks at the cup on the table. 

This was the last thing that Simon needed today. Agatha was a girl from his past, an old crush, who had taken a liking to Penny. Penny and Agatha became close friends. It was always hard for Simon to be around her, especially recently. He had gotten over his crush, for the most part, and knew that dating her wouldn't make him happy. She knew about his crush and decided that now was the perfect time to start showing an interest in him, especially when she was lonely. He had countless texts on his phone about how she wanted to talk and how she wanted to hear about his day. He didn't really see the point--she was in two of his classes. She knew perfectly well that he felt dumb and useless most of the time. 

"Crap," Simon said. "I can't deal with this right now. Pretend I'm not here, okay?" He started to get up, hoping to escape to his room for the remainder of the evening, when Agatha stepped out of the bathroom. 

Her blonde hair was flowing down her back and Simon couldn't bring himself to look away. Even though he knew nothing good could come out of pursuing her, he couldn't help but gawk at her beauty. She was so perfect, almost too perfect if he was being honest, and he couldn't help but admit that he wanted her. He wanted to be the person that put the smile on her face, the one who she held most dear, the one that made her already perfect life just a little bit better.

"Simon, hey," she smiled as she sat down. Simon followed, collapsing back on the couch. 

He checked his phone. 

Nothing.

"How are you?" he asked, trying to be polite. 

"Good, good. I was really happy we got our papers back today. I thought I might have failed but I got top marks."

Simon wanted her to disappear. He knew what was coming. 

"How did you do?"

Now Simon wanted to disappear. 

"I'm sure he did well," Penny said. "He worked really hard on that one."

Simon nodded. He didn't want to say anything. 

He noticed that they were both looking at him. 

"What?"

"What did you get?"

"A C+," Simon sighed. He took a sip of his tea, hoping that the awkwardness would somehow go away if he looked at his tea for a long time. 

"Aw, it's okay. I can help you next time if you want. I know what professors want, you know?"

"That's true, Simon. Agatha has always gotten top marks," Penny chimed.

"Yeah, I know. I just--"

His phone buzzed in his pocket. His heart started racing as he pulled it out of his pocket. He saw that he was getting a call from a number he didn't recognize. He knew what that meant. 

"I have to take this," he said as he got up from the couch, bringing his tea with him. 

"Oh, is it that the girl from work?"

He nodded and scurried off into his room without another word. 

Agatha looked to Penny for a hint of what was going on, obviously upset at the mere thought of Simon talking to some other girl. 

"Girl from work? What girl?"

"I don't know. Simon seems to really like her, though."

"Oh, good for him," Agatha sighed, taking a sip of tea. She tried not to let her face show her contempt for this other woman that was stealing Simon's attention away from her.


	6. Six

Baz sat down on his bed, a smile on his face. He had his phone up to his ear, his long hair back in a loose bun, and had changed out of his suit. He was alone in his flat and happy to finally have some time away from the office. The first thing he did, of course, was dial up Simon. Well, right after he changed twice, which he realized was pointless since he wasn't even seeing Simon, and told himself that everything would be fine. He couldn't understand why he was making such a huge deal out of this. He had talked to a lot of guys at the tennis club, but he never got this flustered. There was something about the blond boy at the Daily Grind that made him suddenly incapable of forming coherent thoughts. 

It only rang twice before Simon picked up. 

"Hello?" Simon asked into the phone. Baz wondered if he had even expected this call. If he had been yearning for it as much as Baz had. 

"Hey, Simon. It's Baz. From the Daily Grind?"

Why couldn't he stop smiling? His mouth was starting to hurt.

"Yeah, 'course. How...how are you?"

Baz wondered if Simon was just as nervous and excited as he was. He wondered if Simon had been sitting around wondering if Baz would call. He wondered if Simon was at the coffee shop today. He wondered if Simon looked to see if Baz would come see him. 

"I'm good. Long day at the office, though. How are you?"

"Same here. Long day. I'm still standing though."

Baz chuckled. 

"That was nice," Simon said. 

Baz felt his cheeks get red. "No, I wasn't laughing at--"

"I mean your little laugh," Simon said, giggling. "It was..."

"It was what?"

"Kind of hot."

Baz didn't know what to say about that. His heart was pounding in his chest. 

"Crap, was that out of line? I'm sorry, I've just... I've never done this before."

"What, flirted with someone?"

Simon laughed again. Baz loved his laugh. It was so light and happy. It was like a child's laugh, and Baz couldn't get enough. 

"No. I meant, like, I haven't done this before. With you. With a guy."

Baz didn't know what to say. 

Baz had always known that he was gay. Even when he was little he knew. He knew he was gay before he even knew what that meant. He always thought of boys as beautiful. He always wanted to talk to boys, never to girls. As he got older it became harder for him to keep it together. He knew his father would never approve of his sexuality so he kept it hidden. He knew that he couldn't even tell his friends without risking that it would somehow get back to his father. There had been a time, before university, where he had dated some girls just so his father wouldn't get suspicious. He was always watching and Baz hated the fact that he had to please him. 

"Oh." It was about all he could muster. Did this mean that Simon wanted nothing to do with him? 

"Am I not allowed to say that?"

Baz repositioned himself on his bed. "No, of course you can. I just don't know what to say. Are you..."

"I don't know. I mean...I've always liked girls. I've dated them and they're fine, you know? But then when you walked into the coffee shop I felt something so real. It wasn't anything like I've felt with those girls."

Baz liked where this was going.

"But I don't really know. It's been kind of weird. And I don't know if I'm allowed to say this but... I haven't been able to think about anything else all day."

Baz really liked where this was going. "That's fine," he said. "It's all fine. I know it's hard to navigate at first, but you'll figure it out. And, for the record, I haven't stopped thinking about you either. Honestly, the thought of calling you was the only thing that kept me sane at work today."

Was Baz going crazy or could he hear Simon smiling over the phone?

"I'm smiling like mad right now," Simon giggled. "You're really sweet."

"You know what else would be sweet? If we got dinner tomorrow night." 

Simon laughed. Baz cringed at his line, but there was something about Simon that made Baz want to be corny. He liked it.

"Yeah, that sounds brilliant," Simon said. "Text me the details?"

"Of course. And hey, Simon?"

"Yeah?"

"I can't wait."


	7. Seven

When Simon came out of his room, Penny and Agatha were sitting on the sofa watching a movie. He had still had that stupid smile on his face and he couldn't seem to get it off. He couldn't contain his excitement for the next night. He never thought that he would want to go out with a boy, let alone be this excited about going out with a boy, but there was something about Baz that made his heart flutter wildly in his chest. He wished he could tell Penny about him but knew that he wasn't ready for that conversation with her. He wasn't even ready for that conversation with himself. 

Penny paused the film. 

"Who was that?" Agatha asked. 

"Was is the girl?" 

Simon nodded. His stomach turned into a knot. He wasn't sure he could keep lying to his best friend, but he didn't see another way out of it. 

"Oh, from the coffee shop?" Agatha asked, crossing her arms. 

"Did you tell her?" Simon asked as he sat down on his favorite chair.

"Yeah, it's just so exciting! I was wondering when you'd get back out there," Penny said. 

Simon rolled his eyes and checked his phone. He had a text from Baz with the specifics for the date.

Hey, how does The Five Fields at 8 sound? xx

Simon smiled and shot back a quick reply.

Great. :) See you there! xx

"Is that her again?" Penny asked.

"Yeah, just saying where we'll meet for our date."

"You're making her pick?" Agatha asked.

"Stop it, Agatha. I think it's sweet for him to let her pick. Where is it?"

"Uh, The Five Fields?"

Simon could have sworn he saw Agatha's eyes bulge out of her head. "What? Can you afford that place?" 

Simon frowned, realizing that he didn't know what the deal was with the payment. Two blokes, he thought, which bloke pays?

"Is it quite expensive?"

"Very expensive," Penny agreed. "That's where Micah took me for our anniversary." 

Simon didn't know what to say. Since Baz was the one who suggested it, was he supposed to pay? Or would they split the bill? Or would Simon have to pay for it all? He started to feel nervous. He really didn't have any money between his school bills and the rent, and he wasn't sure he would be able to go to such a nice place for a date. He had forgotten that dating cost money and that he didn't really have any these days. 

"Should I ask to change the restaurant?" 

"Or just cancel the date," Agatha muttered. 

Penny kicked her lightly. "Maybe. I mean, you two might split the bill. Since it's a first date and all." 

"Maybe I'll just ask. I don't want this to be an issue or embarrassing, you know?"

"I think it'll just be better if you're honest with her," Penny suggested.

Simon agreed and pulled out his phone to straighten this out.


	8. Eight

Baz spent most of the day feeling incredibly nervous for his date with Simon. He couldn't sit through any of his classes, he couldn't eat, and he especially couldn't focus at work. He kept wondering what he should wear, what he should do with his hair, and if he should get Simon flowers. He already had one surprise in store for him, but was it enough? It was hard enough for Baz to not be nervous because of his strong feelings for Simon, but he had the added pressure of being Simon's first gay date. Simon had never been out with a boy before and Baz couldn't help but wonder if Simon would get to the restaurant and decide that everything was wrong. 

When Baz got home that evening, he spent three hours trying to get ready for his date. He took a shower and used his best soap. He made sure to wash his hair twice and use that special, scented conditioner that added an extra bit of shine to his dark hair. He made sure to use his most expensive deodorant, the one that smelled extra masculine, and to clip his nails. He wanted to look utterly gorgeous for his dear Simon. He wanted to make sure that Simon didn't have a single reason to say no to him tonight. In all honesty, Baz wasn't sure what he would do if Simon decided he wasn't interested. 

After he had showered and gotten his hair ready, Baz decided that it was time to face the closet. He always hated this part: the whole getting dressed thing. He had a million choices to choose from but somehow everything always seemed wrong. It was like everything suddenly looked ugly even though he could have sworn he made all the right choices when he picked them out at the shop. He never really cared what he wore to work or to class, but he always overthought his outfits when he had a date. Not that he went out on dates much, since he was so terrified that his father would somehow find out, but he always found himself feeling very anxious when he had one. Something told him that he had to make this date especially good. It was like there was something inside of him telling him he couldn't mess this up because Simon could really be the one. 

Baz decided that it might be a good idea to ask his Aunt Fiona for advice. She had always been very accepting of him and understood the anxiety he felt when he went on dates. He knew that she would help him calm down and understand that, in the grand scheme of things, it wouldn't really matter and everything would work out. 

He got dressed into one of his nice, navy blue blazers and sent her a picture. He waited anxiously for her response. Thankfully she replied almost instantly.

Not my favorite look for a hot date.

Baz rolled his eyes and took it off. He wandered back into the closet and found a seersucker suit that he thought might work. It had never been his favorite but it certainly made a statement. He snapped a picture and sent it to Aunt Fiona. 

Better, but not perfect. If you want to make an impression, maybe try the floral one ;)

Baz sighed and went back into his closet to find the floral suit. He had never worn it because it was so stunningly vibrant. He had never had an appropriate chance to wear it, but this seemed as good a time as any. He found the suit, which was still in its bag from the shop, and tried it on. He had to admit that he looked pretty fantastic in it. The bright colors of the suit drew a bold contrast to his pale skin and dark hair. He sent Fiona a picture. 

It took her less than two seconds to agree that this was the suit for the big date. 

Baz looked at himself in the mirror and decided that any man, even Simon bloody Snow, who didn't want him after seeing him in his suit was not worth his time.


	9. Nine

Simon had changed his outfit four times before deciding on what to wear. Well, more accurately, he had changed his shirt and tie combination four times before deciding on what to wear. He only had one suit, a grey one, so that part was easy. 

"Are you sure this looks good?" Simon asked.

Penny rolled her eyes. She had been sitting on Simon's bed for what felt like hours. When she had agreed to help him pick what to wear she obviously hadn't realized that it would take this long. "Yes, Simon. It looks just as good at the last three."

Simon looked at himself once more in the mirror and ran his fingers through his curls. He decided that this was the best he could do. The white shirt provided a nice contrast to the grey suit and the blue tie really made everything pop. Plus, the blue matched his eyes which Penny said was nice. It maximized his assets and whatnot. 

"I haven't seen you this nervous in a long time," Penny said.

He looked at her. 

"Yeah, that's a lie. You're nervous all the time, but I haven't seen you this happy nervous in a long time."

That much was true.

Simon nodded satisfactorily and checked his phone for the time. He needed to leave soon or he'd be late. Part of him didn't want to go at all because he was so nervous that he thought he might throw up, but the other part of him wanted to go because it was Baz. And even though he didn't know Baz at all, he knew that this date would be the start of something. 

"I'm ready," he said. 

Penny nodded and got up from the bed, her purple hair bouncing. She followed him out to the living room when there was a knock on the door. Simon's heart leapt into his throat at the sound. He thought it was Baz and he knew that he wouldn't know how to explain it to Penny. What would he say? Oh, this is my date. Yes, it's a boy. See you later, don't wait up!

"I thought you guys were meeting at the restaurant?" Penny asked as Simon approached the door. 

He opened it slightly so he could see who it was first. It was a man but it wasn't Baz. It was a broad-shoulder gentleman in a suit with a hat. Simon opened the door so Penny could see who it was. Maybe she was expecting someone?

"Are you Simon Snow?"

Simon nodded.

"Great. I'm ready whenever you are."

Penny appeared by Simon's side and looked at the man with a puzzled look on her face. "Who is this?"

"Dudley Harper," the man said. "I will be escorting you to The Five Fields."

Simon didn't know what to say. "Oh." That was the best he could do.

Penny pushed him out the door, smiling at him and wishing him luck. Simon was flustered but knew that he had to compose himself. He wondered why Baz would send a driver to fetch him or if this was some kind of setup and he was going to end up on some terrible reality show. 

Simon followed Dudley down the stairs and outside. There was a limo parked in front of his building and Simon's jaw dropped. He had never been in a limo before. He thought that it seemed appropriate. Tonight was the night of many firsts for him it would seem. 

"Did Baz..." He couldn't even finish the rest of the sentence.

"Mr. Pitch does only the best for his clients." He opened the door for Simon.

"Oh, I'm not a--"

Dudley chuckled. "Yes, I know. I'm supposed to refer to you as a client so that his father doesn't get suspicious. It's all very hush-hush." He closed the door and got in the front seat, leaving Simon alone in the back. 

He started the car and drove off to The Five Fields. Simon looked out the window and wondered what kind of life Baz left. He could afford a limo, he had clients, and he obviously went on enough dates with men to have made a side business out of it. He felt a great sense of fear as they drove, but also a great sense of excitement. This was the thing he'd been waiting for. This was the thing he had never known he wanted but was finally getting.

This was Baz.


	10. Ten

Aleister Crowley.

Simon Snow looked bloody fantastic in that suit.

Baz stood as Simon approached the table. He looked lost and slightly scared, but Baz didn't feel much different. His stomach was churning and his mouth was dry. The anticipation for this moment had been so overwhelming and now that it had finally arrived he had no idea what to do with himself.

"Simon," he said.

Simon smiled and sat down across from him. "Baz."

There was a tense silence for a moment. Baz could not take his eyes off of Simon in that bloody suit. He was properly gorgeous and Baz wondered if he would be able to control himself. Simon opened the menu. His eyes bulged when he glanced at it.

"This place is..."

"Don't look at the prices," Baz insisted. "Order anything you'd like."

Simon smiled again and kept looking at the menu. Baz could tell that he was unsure about what to say and what to do.

"Simon?"

He looked up from the menu.

"Are you alright?"

Simon nodded softly, his curls bouncing. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I'm just incredibly nervous. I haven't gone on a date in a while and I've never been on a date with a guy."

"I understand," Baz said. "I know how nerve-wracking this can be. When I first started dating guys I thought I was going to fall apart. It was hard for me to come to terms with but I realized that it was all worth it because now I can just be me."

"Is it any different?"

Baz looked at him with his eyebrow raised. "Is what any different?"

"Dating guys," Simon shrugged. "You know, is it different than dating girls? Or--"

"Just be you, Simon. You are perfect just the way you are."

A blush crept across Simon's cheeks. Baz couldn't help but smile when he saw that.

"Well then," Simon said, clearing his throat, "you look stunning in that suit."

Now it was Baz's turn to blush like mad. He knew it was an amazing suit but hearing Simon tell him that felt one million times better than it did in his head. It was like receiving a compliment from a model.

"As do you. I mean, I'm sure you'd look properly beautiful in anything but," he took a pause, looking into Simon's eyes, "Merlin, you look amazing in that grey suit."

He could tell that Simon was the kind of guy who didn't know how beautiful he was. He carried himself like he was ashamed and embarrassed constantly and Baz wondered what had happened in his past to make him this way. Simon deserved to know how handsome he was and how cute he was. He deserved the whole world, for Merlin's sake.

"So that limo," Simon said.

"What about it?"

"I just didn't know you were the kind of guy that had limos on hand."

"I don't," Baz said. "My father does. He runs Pitch Industries."

Simon paled.

"What?" Baz asked. He didn't know what he had said that made Simon so upset.

"Nothing," Simon sighed.

"It's definitely not nothing. Tell me, the curiosity is killing me."

Simon smiled sweetly and readjusted his tie. "Fine. But you can't laugh, okay?"

"Promise I won't."

"I, uh, I applied for an assistant job there last year."

Baz had to hold in his laughter. It was hard but he had promised he wouldn't laugh and he wanted Simon to trust him. But then Simon laughed and Baz had to join in because Simon's laugh was just so adorable.

"That makes sense," Baz smiled.

"Why?"

"Because now I know that this is definitely fate."

Simon couldn't contain his smile or his blush after that. And, if he was being honest, Baz couldn't either.


	11. Eleven

Fate. Simon couldn't stop blushing at that. 

He started to feel less nervous as the time passed. He had to keep telling himself that this was a totally normal and that he just needed to handle this the same way he would on a date with a girl. It took a few minutes to get used to it but Simon had to say that it was going very well. Baz was sweet and caring and so beautiful and he couldn't take his eyes off of him in that floral suit. 

"So," Baz said, "tell me more about yourself. Where did you grow up?"

Simon clenched his jaw. This had always been the part that he feared the most. Most people had simple answers to questions about their childhood but Simon's own childhood was a little more complicated. He was always scared that his story might scare people off because it made him seem so broken. He always had to add that he was happy now and that all of that was in his past just so people didn't feel too sorry for him. 

"Uh, I grew up in London."

Baz nodded. He looked actually interested in what Simon was saying which made him smile. 

"How about your family?"

Simon fumbled with his fingers under the table. "Uh, no family," he said sheepishly, "I grew up in an orphanage. I don't know what happened to my parents. I think my mother died during childbirth and my father couldn't take care of me."

Baz's eyebrows furrowed in sorrow. Simon noticed that his hand was on the table and Simon reached out tentatively and placed his on top. His eyes fluttered shut when he felt the coolness of Baz's skin against his own. Simon had touched girls on dates before, sweet little touches like this, but none of them had made his body feel so explosive. It was like every nerve was suddenly aware of everything around him. It was like he was touching the bloody moon. 

"How did no one adopt you?"

Simon shrugged. "I'm a wreck. Even back then I would always mess everything up, you know? Like I would try to make a sandwich and end up setting something on fire."

"That actually happened, didn't it?"

"It did."

The boys smiled at each other from across the table. Simon noticed a certain twinkle in Baz's eyes that made his knees weak (even though he was sitting) and made his heart leap into his throat. There was something about the dark-haired boy that made him feel somehow complete. Like this was truly the person for him. And this was only their first date. 

"How 'bout you?" Simon asked.

Baz leaned back in his chair, his hand slipped out from under Simon's. "Mine is the typical story of a severely insecure gay man with a perfectionist father, a dead mother, and a dream of escaping this life and living the one of my choosing. That's actually why I go to the tennis club. The one next to your coffee shop. It's the one place I can just be me without lurking in my father's shadow."

"I bet that can get intimidating," Simon agreed. 

"Very true. I used to want to be a violinist, believe it or not."

Simon liked the thought of Baz playing the violin. He could picture it in his mind, clear as day. He could see Baz's long hair falling onto his face as he swayed to the sound of his own beautiful music. Simon knew that Baz would be good at the violin because he knew that there couldn't be anything he was bad at. Baz was the embodiment of human perfection. 

"I'd like to hear you play," Simon said. 

"I'd like to show you sometime, but that's probably more of a third or fourth date activity," Baz decided with a smile.

"Oh," Simon gasped, "so there's going to be a third and a fourth date?"

"Believe me," Baz smiled, "there will be far more than that."


	12. Twelve

It had been an evening of delightful and intriguing conversation. In all honesty, Baz would have preferred that the night never come to an end. He had been on good dates before, of course. He had been on dates with perfectly nice men with interesting conversation and delightful, stolen kisses. Being with Simon felt so much different than being with all of those other guys. He wasn't just interesting, just nice, just handsome, or just anything. He was everything good blended into one beautiful boy, and Baz couldn't get enough of him. Baz didn't really believe in love at first sight, because there is often a lot of darkness lurking beneath a stranger's eyes, but he fell in love with Simon after that date. After that dinner, even.

He wanted to walk him back to his flat. If he had been able to, he would have picked him up for the date himself, but he had just been too nervous and wasted too much time getting ready. Walking him back made Baz feel like he could make up for shoving Simon in an empty limo. It was hard to tell if he enjoyed the walk because he never really stopped smiling. He always looked like he was happy, which Baz found amazing since he had heard heart-wrenching stories about Simon's lonely childhood all night, so he had no idea if he was his normal happy now or happier than usual.

"Nice night," Baz said. It was true. It was a bit chilly with the wind, but the city was ablaze and hundreds of people walked from place to place under the romantic street lights.

"Yeah," Simon agreed, his eyes scanning the buildings nearby. "I love the city at night. Bit cold, though."

Baz got a wonderful, but possibly absurd, idea in his head. He looked down at his hand, noticing how close it was to Simon's. He could easily just move it an inch or so and hold Simon's hand. He had held hands with boys countless times before, but they were all comfortably out of the closet. This was Simon's first date with a guy, and Baz didn't want to do anything to make him uncomfortable.

Screw it, he thought to himself. He moved his hand slightly so it was touching Simon's. He looked to Simon for a reaction to see if he could hold his hand entirely. Simon's cheeks were painted red, but he looked like he was a good kind of nervous. Baz moved his fingers so his hand was latched onto Simon's. He took a deep breath and waited to see what Simon would do next. He wondered if he would recoil or if he would embrace the feeling of Baz's hand upon his own.

"Is this..." Baz started, gesturing to their hands, "okay?"

Simon smiled at him, his cheeks rosy and his eyes all lovely and gleaming. "Yeah," he assured. "I think you worry too much."

Baz couldn't help but laugh. "I swear I'm not normally like this. When I'm at work, I'm feared and respected. When I'm at the tennis club, I'm suave and a smooth-talker."

"So what's got you all nervous now?"

Baz shrugged. "You, I suppose. You're just...you're so different than anyone I've ever met. You're all cute and innocent. It's a nice change of pace, but it's throwing me off my game."

Simon chucked—more like giggled— at Baz. He shot him a cute, corner-of-the-mouth smile with this twinkle in his light, beautiful eyes. "Please," he said, "your game is strong. I haven't been able to stop blushing all night."

Baz liked the sound of that. He was about to say something else, though he wasn't sure what, when Simon stopped walking and quickly turned to face Baz. Baz felt his face get red under Simon's gaze.

"This is my flat," he said.

Baz looked at the building. It wasn't nearly as nice as his own flat, but it looked cute and homey. The windows weren't too big or too small and the building itself was kind of narrow and tall. Baz thought it was the perfect building for Simon. It was adorable.

"Ah," Baz sighed. He didn't know what else to say. Was he allowed to kiss Simon goodnight?

Do I lean in now or do I simply thank him for a lovely evening? I've never really—

Then he kissed me.

Baz's lips felt numb with joy.


	13. Thirteen

Simon was incredibly flustered. He had kissed Baz and it had been good. He tried to remember if it had ever been like this with Agatha, back when they had dated for a brief time (he could hardly have called her his girlfriend, though) but this was better. Agatha had been more of some sort of fantasy built on this absurd idea he had of her before he knew her. Even after one date, Simon knew Baz better than he had known Agatha. He knew that Baz had this cool, collected act going on but that he was actually this perfectly sweet, sappy guy. 

"That was--"

"Wow." That was really all Simon could muster. "Was that... was that okay?" He wanted to make sure it was okay to kiss Baz. He hadn't really asked for permission or anything, but he didn't think he needed to. Baz had asked him out, after all. And Baz was the one who connected their hands so delicately on the walk over. 

"You kissed me, Snow." 

Simon rolled his eyes. "You called me Simon before." 

"In your dreams, Snow."

Baz placed his hand on Simon's head, the side where his hair started to curl uncontrollably. Simon closed his eyes. The feeling of Baz's hands on him made his stomach swirl in his stomach. It had never been like this with Agatha, even when they went out on that date. 

Baz kissed him softly on the lips and smiled at him. Simon decided that Baz's smile was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Better than scones, even (and scones were, in Simon's mind, perfection). 

"Goodnight, Snow." 

"G'night, Baz." He took a breath. He didn't want the night to end, really. Simon had to admit that he was tentative at first. He wasn't homophobic, but the thought of doing anything with another guy never seemed appealing. But now, standing in front of Baz, his lips still tingling and his heart still fluttering rapidly in his chest, he wondered why the thought of this never seemed right. It was now clear that this, being here with Baz, was exactly where he was supposed to be. 

"Wait, can I..."

Baz smiled a sly smile. It would have looked properly sinister if he didn't have that little twinkle in his eye; the twinkle that said he was kidding and that Simon, adorable little Simon, was making him go mad. Simon liked knowing that he had that kind of power. 

"Can you what?"

"I mean," Simon started. The words were unable to really form, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Can we do this again?"

Baz chuckled. His laugh was deep and rich like a red velvet cake. But, at the same time, it was sweet like a scone. He was "an enigma," as Penny would have said. Simon frowned at the thought of going back into his flat and being forced to tell Penny about this. He didn't know what he would tell her. He couldn't very well tell her the truth because that would mean that he was gay and that Penny might treat him differently. How does someone react when their pseudo-brother peeks his head out of the closet that he didn't even know he was in?

Simon didn't want to find out. 

Baz's mobile rang, cutting through Simon's jumbled thoughts. Baz fished it out of his pocket, taking the small thing in his long, manicured hands. He rolled his eyes and shoved it back into his pocket. "I've got to dash," he said. He sounded sad, Simon decided. Simon was sad, too. 

"Oh." 

"I'm going to text you," Baz declared. "And we're going to do this again, okay?"

Simon liked that. Very much. In fact, he didn't think he would be able to wait until "again:" he wanted "again" to be now. If Penny wasn't home, Simon would have invited Baz inside for a drink or something. He wondered what Baz's flat might be like. He pictured some grand, sleek place with a big piano in the corner and a fancy leather armchair in front of some sort of extravagant fireplace. Simon wondered if he would be able to see it sometime. 

"Okay," Simon said, breathlessly. "I...I'm looking forward to it."

Baz smiled, just a little one where the corner of his mouth was upturned slightly, and brushed his fingers through his hair. He was quite a bit taller than Simon, so he had to look down at him. Simon thought it was incredibly sexy, but he didn't want to say that. He figured that Baz had a bit of an ego (or maybe just pretended to have a big ego) and he didn't want to feed it that much on the first date. 

"Me too," Baz said. "I'll see you around, Snow."

He started to walk away, leaving Simon by the door of his building, laughing. "Simon!" 

Baz's silhouette flipped Simon the bird as he walked away. "In your dreams, Snow."

Simon couldn't walk up the stairs without tripping. His head was too filled with Baz. 

Baz. Merlin and Morgana, Simon thought as he started to use his key to unlock the door. That boy might be the end of me.


	14. Fourteen

Baz hated to leave Simon so suddenly, but there was something about that boy that made him want to wait. He was, historically speaking, the one who pushed for things to move to the next level. He had never been good at waiting or at controlling himself when it came to relationships, but he felt like this was special. His heart was still racing as he got back to his flat, and all he could think of was Simon bloody Snow. His lips, his eyes, his hair, and even the way his skin felt when he grazed his fingers at the dinner table.

Baz opened his laptop to try and deal with the presentation that Dev had sent him. Dev's presentation was the last thing from Baz's mind, and he was pissed that Dev had called him and cut his date short, but he knew he had to get this done. If he didn't focus on the presentation about Dev's newest business idea, he knew he would drive himself insane and think of Simon for hours on end. 

Simon. He couldn't help but smile when the thought of the boy popped back into his mind. It had been a long thirteen seconds of thinking about the presentation, so the blond boy's entrance into his train of thought seemed most appropriate and welcomed. He let himself think of their date, lingering over all of the details, for just a few more minutes before turning his attention back to his screen. Dev had joined the chat on the document, asking Baz what his thoughts were and why he hadn't come to get drinks at the pub with the other guys from uni. 

Baz rolled his eyes, trying to think of an excuse. He couldn't tell anyone at uni that he was gay, especially Dev and Niall, because it was all too possible that it might get back to his father. He replied with something about a date with a pretty girl to appease Dev. 

Dev asked if she was good. 

Baz decided that he needed a cigarette. He went out onto his little terrace and lit one. He let the smoke fill him up as he looked over the city stretched before him. He wondered if he could see Simon's (he wouldn't dare let him know that he called him Simon in his head) flat from up here. He tried for a moment before deciding that Simon's building was too small and obscure for him to see from his terrace. Even though he had a considerable height advantage here with the penthouse and all, he knew that finding Simon's flat was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. 

His mobile buzzed again in his pocket, and for a brief moment, he thought it might be Simon calling to say a proper goodnight or something. He dug it out and found that it was Dev. He sighed and answered it. 

He took a deep breath before putting up to his ear. He had to get in character.

"What?" he snapped.

"Woah, someone's a little cranky," Dev said.

"I'm always cranky," he replied. "What do you want?"

"You left the chat on the document. Your name disappeared. I really need your help, Tyrannus. I'm going to fail if you don't help me edit my presentation."

He hated the sound of his real name, but it was just another part of his act. The name Baz was too soft for uni and the office. He needed a name that commanded fear and attention. Tyrannus, while nauseating, was the best he could do. "It may alarm you to know this, but I really do have more important things to be doing than wasting my time looking at your incredibly mind-numbing presentation for a class you're already failing."

He took another drag as Dev replied. "Oh, I see. She's still there, isn't she?" 

"Who?"

"Your date."

"Yeah, she is. We're going to have incredibly wild sex all night long." He wondered if Dev could hear the sarcasm dripping out of his voice or if this was simply something Tyrannus would say and be completely serious about. Sometimes he forgot how to play this part. 

"Wicked," Dev laughed. "I'll just ask someone else then, but you need to give me all the dirty details tomorrow."

Baz rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Ta." 

He hung up before his imbecilic friend could say anything else. He slid his mobile back into his pocket and leaned against the cold, metallic railing of his terrace. He took another drag and watched the smoke leave his mouth and curl up into the cold London air. He needed to change out of his suit soon, he realized. He wanted to keep it nice. He also realized that it had been stupid of him to smoke while wearing it because it would probably reek of cigarettes, and that was a whole can of worms that he didn't want to open. 

Smoking was his private indulgence, and he certainly had a lot of those, recently.


	15. Fifteen

As soon as Simon opened the door, he found himself caught in an ambush of questions from one very over-excited Penny. She bounced around like a child on Christmas morning as a parade of questions flew out of her mouth. Simon, who was still all jittery from his kiss with Baz, smiled at her and sat down on the sofa, preparing himself to answer her. 

"Well?" Penny asked, her eyes agleam. Simon chuckled to himself, thinking that this must be what she looked like when a professor handed out a pop quiz. Pure joy. 

"It was good," he said. 

She frowned. "Good? That's all I get? Simon, you've been obsessing about this date and this girl and now all I get is a 'good?' That's hardly fair!" 

He shrugged, but he couldn't keep that smile from creeping back onto his face. He wondered if he should tell Penny that it was a boy––not just a boy, but Baz–– or if he should keep going with his Brianna lie. He didn't think that Penny would mind that it was a boy, but it was hard for him to find the words. He didn't want to hide Baz. He was proud of Baz. 

"Look, Pen, I need to tell you something," he said. 

She nodded, expecting news about the date, but then she caught on to the seriousness of his tone and that sad look in his eyes. She had seen it so many times before and she knew what it meant. She sat down next to him and faced him expectantly. He sighed and looked into her eyes, those familiar eyes, and suddenly that nervousness he had about telling her washed away. 

This is Penny, he reminded himself. If she can't be chased off by the nightmares and the childhood, she's not going anywhere. 

"It's about my date," he said.

"Okay."

"Well, it's not. I mean, it is. But it's also about me. About who I went on a date with. What I went on a date with. Well––"

She tentatively placed her hand on his bouncing leg. He hadn't even realized it was bouncing. "Simon, you can tell me anything. I love you no matter what." 

He smiled at her. "I know, Pen. It's just hard, y'know? But I guess..." he took a deep breath. "I went on a date with a guy. His name is Baz Pitch and--"

"Baz Pitch?" she screeched. "You mean Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch?"

He wondered if she had gone off her rocker. "Did you not hear me say that I went on a date with a guy?"

"No, I did. And of course I support you, but do you know who he is?" 

"Yeah. His dad is Malcolm Grimm, Simon. The CEO of––"

"Pitch Industries, yeah I know. He told me." 

He scoffed. He didn't understand what had her in such a frenzy. 

"Did he tell you what his dad does?" 

"I applied to work there, Penny. I know what they do." 

She shot him a look. 

He sighed. "Okay, fine. What does his dad do?" 

She readjusted her position on the couch and pulled her phone out of her pocket. She typed something in, scrolled a bit, and then did one of her "a-has!" before handing him the phone. Tentatively he took it, giving her a bit of a concerned look before reading the article.

At the top of the page was a picture of man that could only be described as terrifying––expensive suit, slicked back hair, threatening eyes, and a clenched jaw. Behind him and slightly to his right stood Baz, looking all proper in a suit and tie and with that same hateful look in his eye that his father had. The headline read "Pitch Industries Lets Hundreds of 'Homos' Go: Exclusive Interview With Malcolm Grimm." And, below that, two quotes, one from Malcolm and one from Baz. 

Malcolm Grimm: "It's time the workplace took a stand to this complete mockery of the traditional workplace environment."

Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch: "Pitch Industries is the leader in business––both domestic and international––and we cannot in good faith allow people with such morally repugnant ideals to be allowed to work at this elite pillar of the business world."

Every happy thought vanished from Simon's mind. That fluttering in his stomach was replaced with complete and utter nausea as he finished reading those quotes, especially the second one. Morally repugnant ideals. He wanted to throw up. If Baz was so against it, why had he asked Simon out? Was this some sort of sick joke? 

"That can't be him," he said after a moment when he finally collected himself. "That's not the guy I went out with." 

Penny wrapped her arm around his shoulder and rubbed his shoulder to calm him down. She rested her head against him, curling into him to let him know that it would be okay. "You need to talk to him," she said. "Give him a chance to explain himself." 

He nodded, his curls bouncing. "Tomorrow," he said. 

"Tonight," she said. "You know you won't be able to sleep unless you talk to him first. Get this sorted out." 

She was right, of course. "He seemed busy. He had to run off and do something." 

"This is important, Simon. You're important. I would hate for your first experience with a guy to be ruined by some sort of elaborate scheme to publicly shame you." 

He nodded and planted a kiss to the top of her head. He unraveled himself from her and stood, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "I'll text him. I'm just going to--"

She nodded understandingly. "Take your time."

He started to head off to his room. 

"Simon?" 

He turned around. 

"I'm here for you, okay? Always. No matter what."


	16. Sixteen

Even though he was in bed, he had no intention of going to sleep. He couldn't sleep––even after a normal day––but he definitely couldn't sleep after his date with Simon. It was like his entire body was awake now. He kept replaying everything over and over again in his mind, the dinner, the walk back to Simon's flat, the kiss...and every time he went through it he felt it all over again. His big flat now seemed so empty and lonely. His uncomfortable but stylish and expensive furniture now seemed so cold and mocking. He wanted, more than anything, for Simon to be with him now. To feel him lying in the big empty bed, to feel that warmth that radiated off him. To reach out and ruffle his curls. To kiss those moles that splattered his face and neck. 

His phone rang, cutting through his thoughts. Figuring it was Dev calling again, he didn't exactly rush to pick it up. It was plugged in on his nightstand, so he took his time rolling over and checking the caller ID. When he saw that it was Simon Snow, Cute Coffeehouse Boy, he nearly screamed. He struggled to unplug the device from the charger. When he finally managed it, he swiped to answer the call and held the phone up to his ear. 

"Simon," he said breathlessly. 

There was a pause on the other end. Then a sniffle. "Baz."

It sounded cold. Baz shuddered. Did he not like the date? Was it too much? Was it me? "Are you okay?" he asked, sitting up in a comfortable position. 

"No."

Baz felt his heart break a little. "N--no? Why?"

"I came out to my flatmate tonight," Simon said. "My best friend. Penny."

He felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Did she not––"

"She showed me an article. About Pitch Industries. About you." 

The way he said "you" was filled with hate and disdain. It made Baz sick to his stomach. "What was it about?" He got out of bed, realizing that he would probably need another cigarette for whatever this was about. It seemed important. It seemed bad. So he got up, pulling on his navy blue silk robe, and went to the living room. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes and headed out to the balcony, braving the cold London air. 

"Something about letting the, uh, 'homos' go? You said that they had morally pungent ideals?"

He lit on and took a deep inhale, closing his eyes. Of course he found that article, he seethed to himself. "Repugnant," he found himself saying. He immediately hated himself for saying that. "And...yes. I suppose I did say that."

"So this was a joke then," Simon decided on the other line. Baz leaned against the railing of his balcony, looking out at the city spread before him. "The date was a joke?"

Baz sighed, unsure of what to say. "Of course not, Simon. Do you really believe that?"

Simon let out a teary laugh. "After reading that and seeing you looking all evil, I'm not sure what to believe."

"It wasn't a joke. Of course it wasn't a joke, Simon. You are--" he took a breath. "I meant what I said tonight. Everything. But the thing is that I'm two people. Not really, of course, but I'm Baz with you. That's who I am inside, who I yearn to be. At work and at school, I'm Tyrannus, the son of Malcolm Grimm. I have to be tough and cunning and smart and, well, straight."

Simon didn't say anything.

"That shit you might read in the newspapers...it isn't me. I don't even make any of that up. People write it for me because I'm not even allowed to have my own voice."

"So... what does that make me?"

Baz let out a forced chuckle. "What do you mean?"

"With us. If we...if we went out again, what would that make me? Some secret that you're ashamed to admit?" 

Baz wanted to cry. "I would never be ashamed of you. You...you are the one good thing that's happened to me in a very long time. And I'm sorry if my not being forthcoming about my father's work has jeopardized that. I thought it would protect you if you didn't know. Maybe I was just being selfish." 

Unfortunately, his involvement with his father was the reason that most of his relationships ended. It had been fine with those random guys from the club, but he refused to allow it to end whatever he had with Simon. He was too important, too special. Damn my father, he thought. And he meant it, too. He wanted to do something about it now. He wanted to live the life that Simon believed he led--one where he was free to be Baz all the time instead of being torn between his fantasy world and the one his father controlled. 

"It was a bit selfish," Simon admitted. Baz felt his chest tighten. Is this it? "But since you were honest, and 'cos I like you so much, I'm gonna let it go. But you're on prohibition."

Baz smiled. "Probation," he corrected with a chuckle. 

He heard Simon laugh, too. "Don't push it, Tyrannus." 

"Oh, Tyrannus? Am I in trouble?

He could hear Simon blush over the phone. "Only if you lie to me again."

"Deal. Sleep well, Simon."

"G'night, Baz."


	17. Seventeen

Simon had no idea how to go about his daily business. He got up the next morning when his alarm went off. He walked to work, even though it was raining and he'd forgotten an umbrella. On the walk, he though about Agatha. When he had dated Agatha, it was easy to go about his normal life. He could get through the day with no difficulty. Sometimes there would be days where he didn't think about her or speak to her at all and it felt fine. He didn't feel like there was something missing. Now, though, it felt like this was pointless. Like each order he took was just another step on his walk to a slow and painful death. Any time there was a lull and no new customers came through the door, he checked his phone. He knew, somewhere deep inside of him, that it was pointless because Baz had a job and had whatever else going on, but he always wanted to check just in case. 

He thought about texting him. He thought about texting him a million times over again until the only thoughts running through his mind were the possibilities of texts he could send. Since he had called Baz up the previous night, he felt like he shouldn't text him. He felt like he would be intruding on his life. Even though Baz had promised that this––whatever this was––was not some practical joke, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that he was pushing the boundaries between normal and clingy or obsessive. He couldn't get Baz out of his head even when his lunch break rolled around and his boss, Ebb, handed him a basket of scones that were from the previous day and therefor unfit for customers. With each bite he took, all he could think about were Baz's lips on his own. The way Baz's lips were so soft and cool and how it had all been like a dream. Then, added with the lack of communication that day, Simon worried if it really had been just a dream. If he was so lonely that his mind somehow dreamt up this wonderfully perfect boy who cared about him just so he didn't have to face the truth that he was alone. 

When Simon walked back home from work that day with the basket of scones (the leftovers, anyway. He'd already eaten about half the basket) the rain had started to turn into a drizzle. It was peaceful, in a way. It was cold rain, the kind that normal people probably would've complained about, but Simon liked it. He always ran so bloody hot so it felt like the rain was cooling him off. Then, of course, thoughts of the cold rain brought him back to thoughts of Baz (because he was that kind of nice cold, too) and he couldn't help but beam like an imbecile as he walked back to his flat. When he arrived outside of his building, he saw a limo double parked out front with its hazards flashing through the rain and the light layer of fog. Curious, he wandered over to the sleek vehicle to see what it was doing here. 

Just as he approached it, the passenger door swung open and Baz stepped out. He was in a suit (of course) and his hair was slicked back. Simon liked it better when it hung loose around his face like he had worn it last night on their date. Despite the hair, Simon was happy to see him. He was still feeling a bit concerned about everything after last night, but seeing Baz standing in front of him with flowers in his hand made all of that worry wash away until there was nothing left in his mind except for how kissable Baz looked with that damn smirk on his face. 

"Snow," he said, shutting the door and walking over to him. 

Simon didn't know how to greet him. With a hug? A smile? A kiss? A handshake? He didn't want to do anything wrong so he just stood there with the basket of scones in his hands, smiling like mad. "Baz." 

Baz came closer to him until they were almost chest to chest. "Simon." 

Simon couldn't help but blush at that. Baz said his name like it was magic. "Wh––what...you're..."

"Use your words, Snow."

He looked up at Baz, his heart pounding in his chest. He had no idea what he was supposed to say. His mind couldn't articulate a single thought (which was not uncommon, but it was so hard to focus on anything except for Baz's lips). He moved in closer so they were practically on top of each other because being an inch apart didn't seem nearly close enough. 

Before he could make his next move, Baz pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. Simon felt like he might catch fire. 

"You're here," Simon said. 

Baz nodded and handed him the flowers. Simon took them and smelled them before setting them in his basket. They were beautiful, of course. It was a bouquet filled with daffodils, buttercups, and lilacs. The yellow, white, and purple colors made for a wonderful sight. "I just wanted to come and apologize in person," Baz said. Simon realized that they were still standing in the street so he led Baz over to the sidewalk by the front door of his building. 

"You really didn't have to." 

"I know, but I wanted to. I wanted to express my sincere regret for how you found out about what I do for my father's company. I wanted to let you know that I would never lead you on or play with your emotions."

Simon nodded, still unsure of what to say. Of course he forgave him. He forgave him last night on the phone. This was the nicest apology he'd ever received and he couldn't help but beam at the gesture. This made every feeling of doubt wash away as if it had never existed at all. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have gotten mad at you for something like that when we'd only been out once." 

"Nonsense. You had every right to be upset with me. Hell, I'm upset with me."

"And the flowers..."

Baz grinned. "Ah, yes. I just happened to stumble across your Facebook last night after we spoke. I noticed that you seem to like them quite a bit, considering that they're half of your feed." 

Simon blushed again. He made a mental note to learn to control himself. 

"Now that I've come and said all I wanted to say––"

"Youshouldcomeupstairsbutonlyifyouwantto." He said it one breath. He wasn't sure if Baz had even registered it. He was about to apologize or maybe just thank Baz and send him on his way so he couldn't make a bigger fool of himself, but then Baz smiled at him and took his hand. 

"I'd love to."


	18. Eighteen

Of course Simon bloody Snow lives in the cutest little flat, Baz thought as he entered. It was the cutest place he'd ever seen. The kitchen was small and littered in appliances and open cookbooks. The sitting area was small and cozy with a plush couch (covered in pillows) and bookshelves. It was like stepping into the universal meaning of home. Baz couldn't help but smile at the sight. 

"I'm gonna put these in water," Simon said, gesturing to the flowers in his basket. Baz nodded and watched as Simon wandered into the kitchen, fetched a vase from one of the cabinets, and filled it with water. Baz tore his eyes away from the beautiful boy to take a look at the bookshelves. As an avid reader, he wanted to see what Simon and his roommate to read. A lot of the books were very academic ones that he recognized from his father's collection or from his own classes. Since Simon didn't seem like the kind to read that sort of thing, he figured that they must've belonged to his roommate. The books like The Legend of Zelda, Harry Potter, Pumpkin Heads, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, and The Little Book of Scones seemed more like Simon's reads. Baz ran his fingers along their spines, a slight smile creeping on his face. 

"Where do you think I should put 'em?" Simon asked. Baz turned and saw Simon holding the vase full of flowers in his hands. 

"Coffee table, maybe," Baz suggested. 

Simon hummed in agreement and set it down in the middle of the table. He put his hands on his hips and looked at the flowers for a moment before bending down to fix the arrangement. Baz saw this as an opportunity and walked over to the boy, wrapped his arms around his waist from behind. Simon, in return, let out the cutest little noise of surprise. It made Baz's heart melt right there and then. Simon stood, leaning back into Baz, and closed his eyes. Then Baz spun him around so they were facing each other like they had down on the street, but now Baz's hands were around his waist and Simon's settled on his shoulders, reaching around to the back of his neck. 

"Hi," Simon whispered, looking up into Baz's eyes. 

"Hi." 

As if Simon couldn't stand being so far for even a moment, he reached up (standing on his toes, probably) and kissed Baz. It was soft at first, like he was unsure if he was allowed to kiss him. Baz wanted to tell him that he could kiss him as often as he'd like. Kiss him as much as he'd like. Instead, when Simon sheepishly pulled away to survey the damage, Baz cupped his hands around Simon's face and kissed him again.

It was a proper kiss this time. Simon hummed against his lips and pushed himself against Baz until Baz felt like he would fall over. Careful not to break the kiss, Baz lead Simon over to the couch. The two fell down on it, Baz underneath Simon, and kept kissing. Simon kissed him more, kissed him harder, and Baz was more than willing to cooperate. He opened his mouth and slipped his tongue inside of Simon's mouth which got him another hum of agreement from the blonde. Baz couldn't help but smile because, Crowley Snow made the cutest noises when they kissed. 

Just as Simon's hands managed to somehow slip under Baz's (previously tucked) shirt, the front door flew open. 

"Nicks and Slick, Simon," Penny murmured from the door. 

Simon, still panting and very red-faced, nearly leapt off of Baz and turned to face his roommate. She stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips and her eyes narrow. Baz pulled himself up, too, and wrapped his arm around Simon's waist. 

"Oh, hey, Pen," Simon said, tugging on his curls. 

Baz wanted to kiss him again. 

"Is this...?"

Simon nodded and stood, dragging Baz up with him. "This is Baz," he said triumphantly.

Penny waved and entered the flat, two bags in hand, closing the door behind her. "Nice to meet you, Baz." 

Baz nodded and extended his hand. She went over to him and shook his hand, staring at him. It looked like she was trying to see if he was good enough for Simon. Baz wanted to explain that he certainly was not, but he kept his mouth shut and smiled at her. 

"I'm Penny," she said. "Penelope Bunce. Simon's roommate and best friend." They pulled away from each other. 

Simon cleared his throat. "What a way to meet each other, huh? One for the books." 

Baz couldn't help but chuckle. "I do apologize that you walked in on that. If I had known that you were going to be here, perhaps I would have––"

Penny waved her hands in the air dismissively . "It's fine. I just wasn't expecting you to be here. If someone," she looked pointedly to Simon who blushed and lowered his head, "would just text me when they were...using the flat, I wouldn't have come back at all." 

"I didn't know he was gonna be here," Simon argued. 

Penny rolled her eyes. Baz liked her already. She seemed very determined and funny. "Yeah, making out is notoriously difficult to schedule."

Baz definitely liked her. "I did just sort of stop by without warning," Baz said. "I'm really sorry if I intruded on your evening."

"You didn't," Simon assured him, taking his hand. 

Penny looked back and forth at the two of them for a moment before she sighed. "Well, Basilton," she said, causing Baz to pale at the use of his full name, "you're lucky I got extra take-out."


	19. Nineteen

It was awkward at first. Penny didn't really know what to say to Baz when the three of them sat down to a dinner of Chinese takeout at the little kitchen table. Simon sat between them like a buffer as he heaped an unhealthy amount of dumplings onto his plate. Baz watched him intently like it was the cutest (but also the most horrifying) thing that he'd ever seen. Simon felt Baz's gaze on him and held out the container, offering him some. Baz chuckled and took the dumplings and served two to himself before handing them off to Penny.

"So," Penny said, scraping some rice onto her plate. "You two are..."

The boys looked at each other. They hadn't really talked about anything yet. Simon figured that two dates (one and a half, more like) wasn't long enough to comfortably bring up the topic, but his friend was kind of forcing him to think about it now. He looked to Baz for guidance. As if he were some kind of mind reader, he slipped his hand onto Simon's bouncing knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and looked at Penny.

"Dating," he said. 

Simon blushed as she shoved an entire dumpling in his mouth. 

"Well, Basil," she said, "if you hurt him..."

Baz nodded in agreement. Simon could tell that Penny was just trying to get a rise out of Baz, but he didn't say anything. If anything, he found it a bit entertaining. He knew that Penny supported them (even if this was making it seem like she didn't) and that she just wanted to make sure that Simon was being well cared for. Simon wanted to argue that he didn't need her to protect him, but he liked it. It made him feel like he had earned something, somehow. He couldn't quite explain it. 

"Wouldn't dream of it," Baz purred. He took a bit of his sweet and sour chicken. "This is delicious. You'll have to give me the name of this place. Maybe I can treat you to it next time." 

Penny smiled at him and carried on picking little bites off of her plate. 

"Did you see the flowers?" Simon asked, pointing back towards the sitting area. 

Penny nodded. "Yes, beautiful. Did you make the arrangement yourself?" She turned to Baz. "He's very talented with plants, you know. I've had to limit the amount of succulents he's allowed to keep out here. His room is a sodding greenhouse at this point." 

Simon rolled his eyes. "Baz got them for me, actually. To make up for yesterday." 

"That's sweet. They're very nice, Baz." 

Baz's face softened at the use of his preferred name. "Well, I just thought it might be nice to apologize in person. And I wanted to thank you, actually. For showing him the article. It's always been a...touchy subject."

"Don't go doing that sort of thing again," she said, wagging her fork at him. "I'm very clever. If you do something, I'll know it." 

Baz laughed. Simon wanted to kiss him again. 

"She's not joking," Simon mumbled. "I tried sneaking another succulent in here a few weeks ago. She caught on as soon as I stepped through the fucking door." 

"So nothing gets passed Bunce. I'll be sure to remember that, Snow." Even though Simon couldn't have really been sure, he could have sworn that he saw Baz wink at him. Simon thought he might lose his mind sitting at the table right then and there. Baz must've noticed because he gave Simon's knee another squeeze. 

"In all seriousness, I wanted to let you know that I approve. Not that you needed my approval, but you have it. I haven't seen Simon this happy--"

"Dessert!" Simon cried, turning red with embarrassment. He sprang up from the table dramatically and went over to the freezer to grab a pint of ice cream and then the scones from the counter, setting them both down triumphantly. 

Baz shot him a confused (and slightly concerned) look for a moment before smiling at the dessert in front of him. Simon beamed back and stared scooping the ice cream onto his plate. 

"Merlin, Simon," Penny sighed. "Use a different plate." 

"'S too late now," Simon said with a shrug, shoveling two scones on top of his mountain of ice cream.


	20. Twenty

Simon Snow was starting to pull Baz's focus away from things like studying. Like functioning. He'd been with lots of guys, either as a one night stand or dating, but none of them compared to Simon. It was like his mind had been filled to the brim with Simon's laugh, smile, eyes, and every other bloody detail about him until there was no room left for anything else. Even when Baz sat in his office at Pitch Industries, he thought of Simon. The emails and the numbers he had to look at seemed so much less important than stalking Simon's Facebook page for the third time that day. 

He didn't seem to use it much these days, so most of the pictures were from over a year ago. There were a lot with Penny which made Baz smile, but then he saw the ones with the blonde girl. Those gave him a pang of jealousy, especially considering that they seemed to be holding hands in a majority of the pictures. Baz knew that Simon had a life before they met, that he had gone on dates and whatnot, but these pictures made his stomach sink. He never kept any of his pictures up if they were with someone he was no longer with. He found it a bit strange that Simon did. 

She might just be a friend, he told himself, clicking on a picture where the girl was kissing Simon's cheek. His cheeks flushed. Or not. He growled and closed the Facebook tab, trying to focus on those emails that needed tending to.

After a few minutes, a knock came at the door. 

"Enter," he said, straightening his tie and running his fingers through his hair to make sure that he looked presentable.

His father's secretary entered. She was a mousy woman with a pointy nose and thin, silver glasses that always hung too low on her face. She was around his age, he figured. Might've been a student in one of his classes. She stepped into the office and closed the door behind her. 

"Basilton," she said, looking around his sparse office for a moment. He'd never bothered to hang any pictures or put any plants around. Of course, thinking about plants made him think about Simon, so he had to push the thoughts out of his mind. He couldn't be Baz. Not now. 

He turned his full attention to the woman. 

"Your father wants to let you know that you have an important dinner tonight," she said.

Baz frowned and clicked on his calendar on his desktop. He shook his head. "I don't have anything on the calendar. In all honesty, he was planning on going to the movies with Simon tonight. It was going to be like their second official date and he could not have been more excited. 

"Your father arranged it," she said, handing him a piece of paper with information on it. "It's with Agatha Wellbelove, the heiress to the Wellbelove fortune. Your father wants you to talk to her about business opportunities." 

Baz couldn't hep but groan. "I do wish that my father would discuss these things with me first. I happen to have plans tonight." He looked at the paper, glancing at the useless factoids that someone had written down. 

"Good luck trying to tell him that," the secretary laughed. 

Baz knew that she was right and that arguing would simply be a waste of time, but he was still pissed off. He also didn't know why his father wouldn't just go to dinner with Mr. Wellbelove. They were friendly enough, both being important members of their society. Baz hadn't even seen Agatha since they were young at one function or another. It would be completely awkward to have dinner with her. 

"Leave me," Baz said with a dismissive wave. The secretary bowed her head and left him alone in his office. He checked the sheet for time and place for this meeting. It was in two hours at some upscale restaurant he'd been to once with his parents.

He picked up his phone and dialed up Simon's number. He wasn't sure if Simon would still be at work or maybe in class, but he would prefer to tell him on a call instead of text. Texting was not his strong suit. 

Simon picked up on the third ring. "Baz?" he said, his voice excited. 

Something crashed in the background.

Baz couldn't help but smile. "Crowley, Snow, whatever are you doing?"

"I'm just--" Simon paused. There was some sort of shuffling noise. "I'm just cooking dinner for us. Or trying to, anyway." 

Baz's smile disappeared. "About that..."

"I hope you like chicken," Simon said. "It's about all I know how to make. Well, that and scones. I just figured it'd be nice to eat here before we go to the movies. Or, ya know, we could just watch one here. Penny's going to be out with her boyfriend all night anyway so--"

"Simon." 

Simon stopped rambling. 

"I can't make dinner tonight."

"Oh." 

Baz deflated into his seat, feeling bad for making Simon sad. He never wanted to hear that disappointment again. "My father arranged some business dinner for me tonight. I can come round after, though. If that's all right, of course."

He could hear Simon smile over the phone. "O--of course! I'll just... I'll just put the extras in the fridge for Penny, I s'pose. What time do you think you'll be over?"

"I'll text you when dinner's winding down. Shouldn't take long, anyway. It's strictly business." A wicked grin flashed over his face. "And you, Snow, are strictly pleasure."


	21. Twenty-One

She was late. 

Baz wondered how long he had to wait for her before he could just give up and go back to Simon's flat. He couldn't keep his knee from bouncing anxiously as he glared at the door, hoping that Agatha Wellbelove would be standing there. She wasn't. He was already halfway through his whiskey now and he really didn't want to have to order another one while he waited for her. The waiters must have thought that he was being stood up for a date or something. He noticed their pitiful smiles whenever they walked by. 

Just as he was about to say sod it and leave, Agatha stumbled in. Baz felt his anger at the situation multiply when he realized that she was the girl from Simon's Facebook. He hadn't seen her in such a long time that he didn't realize it at first. She had the same coloring that she had when she was a child, but she was prettier now. She used to be too skinny, but now it was like she had really come into herself. She looked poised and graceful. 

It made Baz want to throw up. 

"You're late," he said, pretending that having her sitting across from him wasn't driving him up the wall. This girl was friends with Simon. Might have been dating Simon. For a long time. Baz had to really focus on his breathing to keep himself composed. 

"I know," she said, sitting down and taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry. Someone called me and I couldn't just hang up. I didn't even realize the time had gone by so quickly."

He took a sip of his whiskey. A big one. "Quite unprofessional of you. Your father would be disappointed." 

She looked taken aback for a moment before she just laughed with an unreadable twinkle in her eyes. It made Baz nervous. "Aw, come on, Baz." He'd completely forgotten that she used to call him that back in the day. Before he went by Tyrannus or Basilton most of the time. "It's not like this is a meeting or something."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what would give you the impression that this isn't a business meeting?" 

"Wh--wait. What do you think we're here for?"

He sighed. "Well, I was told that we would be discussing how to bring our families' businesses together. I was told that your father was eager for this to happen. Younger generations and whatnot." 

She looked at him like he was stupid. He had to take another sip of his whiskey to keep himself from lunging at her. He hated that look. Agatha Wellbelove looking at him like he was the idiot. She was the one that was late for their meeting.

"Well, I suppose it is about bringing the businesses together," she said, twirling a piece of her blonde hair in her hand. "But this is a date. It was your father's idea, actually. And, if I'm being truthful, I wasn't exactly opposed. You've aged so well, Baz." 

He thought he might suffocate. This was Simon's friend, his possible ex-girlfriend, and she was trying to date him. Baz. It made sense that Simon hadn't told her about their new relationship, but the mere idea of this felt like a huge betrayal. But then he realized that she had no idea that Baz was even in Simon's life, so it felt like his best move was to make sure she knew that before he said anything else. He couldn't exactly tell her that he was gay or in a relationship with Simon because then he ran the chance of his father finding out. 

"I'm flattered," he began, choosing his words carefully, "but I'm afraid that it would be a bit weird." 

"Why would it be weird?"

"Well, I believe you know Simon Snow." 

He couldn't quite tell what her reaction meant. She looked both nervous and angry, but her face quickly shifted again to that soft smile. He wondered how long it had taken her to perfect that stupid, poised look. 

She shifted in her seat. "I, uh...yes. I know him. Why?"

"We've become...acquaintances recently, and I'm afraid that dating you might disturb that. I don't want to get in the middle of––"

"You won't be," she interjected. "In the middle of anything, I mean. He broke up with me. And he had a date with some other girl recently. He's the one I was just speaking to on the phone, actually. She's coming over tonight I guess. He tried to cook a chicken and nearly burnt down his flat so I had to talk him through how to deal with that. It's fine. We're friends. He wouldn't mind, you know. He's such a nice guy." 

Yes, I know he's a nice guy. I'm the "girl" he's dating, Baz wanted to say. Instead he just glared at her for a moment before pretending that he got a text. "Oh, it's my step-mother. Emergency at home. I uh--"

She waved his thoughts away. "No, it's totally fine. I understand. You should go and deal with that and we can pick this up another time. I'll text you, okay?"

He nodded and stood. She stood after him and planted a kiss on his cheek before leaving the restaurant. 

Crowley, could this get any more complicated?


	22. Twenty-Two

Baz came round earlier than Simon had expected. 

He was still in the process of cleaning up the kitchen after the flaming chicken incident that had occurred only about an hour ago when a knock came at the door. He really wasn't expecting Baz yet so he was just in his joggers. His shirt had caught fire when he tried to deal with the chicken so he had discarded it. He wasn't sure who he was expecting, a delivery man or something, maybe, but it wasn't Baz. And since Baz was at his door and Simon was shirtless, he felt incredibly self conscious. He felt his face heat up instantly. 

Baz looked at him for a moment, his eyes wandering over the expanse of Simon's chest. He had an eyebrow raised and Simon had no idea if that meant he liked what he saw or if he was repulsed. Simon didn't have much time to try and figure out which it was because Baz's lips were on his own. 

Okay, so he likes me shirtless, he smiled to himself as he kissed Baz back with all of the intensity he could muster. A lot. 

Baz pulled away after a moment, much to Simon's disappointment. 

"I like this new greeting," Simon beamed, closing the door as Baz stepped fully into the flat. 

"Smells like something died in here, Snow," he said.

Simon shrugged. "I lost track of time with the chicken. It might've caught fire."

Baz rolled his eyes but Simon saw a small smile creeping on his lips. "You're a mess," he whispered.

His velvety voice made Simon shudder. Then, when Baz went in to hug him, Simon couldn't help but notice the pain from the burns on his wrist and chest. He hadn't really had the time to run water over them or anything since he had spent the better part of the past hour trying to clean up his mess so Penny wouldn't notice and have a fit. 

Baz's face contorted in confusion and worry. "Are you hurt?" 

Simon shrugged again as Baz pulled away and examined his body for signs of injury. "It's just a burn," he said.

Baz glared at him. 

"Or two. I dunno. They're not that bad." 

"Have you run cool water on them?" 

He shook his head. 

Baz took his hand and led him into the bathroom. He turned on the shower and gestured for Simon to get in. 

The thought of Baz seeing him naked made him incredibly nervous so he protested as much as he could without giving away his reasoning. "I'm fine, it's fine. I can do it later." 

"Just get in, Simon. It'll only get worse if you don't fix it now." 

Simon rolled his eyes and stripped his joggers off, keeping his pants on. Baz didn't seem to protest, but Simon couldn't help but wonder if Baz wanted to see him naked. He certainly wouldn't mind seeing Baz naked. 

Shut up, he scolded himself as he stepped into the shower. You're in nothing but your pants. Don't think about Baz naked. 

Baz watched him carefully as he let the cold water run over his burns. It stung at first, but then it started to feel nice. Better, at any rate. After a few minutes, he got out of the shower and turned the tap off. Baz handed him one of the towels that hung on the hook on the door. Simon accepted it and tied it around his waist before waiting for further instructions. 

Baz seemed lost in thought. Simon wondered what he could be thinking about but then he saw him looking pointedly at Simon's bare chest. Simon felt that blush creeping back up again. 

"We should bandage them," Baz said, dragging his eyes up to meet Simon's. Simon nodded.

"I'll get the––"

"No. You will go sit on your bed and rest. I will get the bandages. Where are they?"

His voice was cool and demanding, but Simon knew that he was just worried. It was cute, if he was being honest. Cute that Baz was getting so worried about a few small burns from a chicken accident. 

"Uh, under the sink."

Baz nodded and started digging around in the cabinet. Simon went to his room as he was told and sat down on the bed. Then he decided that he should change his pants because they were all wet, so he dropped his towel and got to work on that. 

When Baz came back in, Simon had just slipped into a pair of dry ones. He hadn't put trousers on yet, but Baz didn't seem to mind. Instead he just lead Simon to the bed and sat him down. He had a whole first aid kit with him. Simon had needed to use those kits so often that this was his fourth one he'd purchased after living in this flat. He got in a lot of fights, although, to be fair, he didn't usually start them. He usually just finished them for someone else. 

"You have quite a few scars," Baz said, bandaging up the burns. 

Simon tried not to think about how good his cool fingers felt on his burning chest. Pants, Simon, he reminded himself. "Yeah, I get in a lot of fights. Stupid shit." 

"Who are you fighting?" 

He didn't really feel like explaining his fighting history to Baz. People (Penny) tended to judge him for it. They (Penny) tended to get all mad when he explained that he wasn't the one picking the fights, but the one finishing them. ("It's not your job to save everyone, Simon," she had said when he came back after a particularly grueling row). But, based off the look on Baz's face, Simon knew that he had to tell him or he'd get worked up thinking that Simon was some sort of amateur street-fighter. 

"I dunno. People. I don't really start them, I just finish them. I did it all the time in the care homes when the older blokes picked fights with the new kids. I guess I never learned to stop getting involved." 

I wish I knew what Baz was thinking.


	23. Twenty-Three

Baz was thinking that he was going to fall in love with this boy. This boy right in front of him with the golden skin, the moles, the freckles, and the pure heart. Hearing about how he swooped in to save the day made his heart clench in his chest. He was sure he would combust from the swell of emotions that hit him when Simon had told him about the fights. He wanted to push Simon down on the beg and snog him senseless. Snog him until Simon was just as cold as he was––until his lips were blue and they couldn't even breathe. 

Based on Simon's fidgeting, he must've been thinking about the same thing. He had an adorable blush painted across his cheeks. Baz wanted to kiss it. 

"Very noble of you," he said, unsure of what else to say.

Don't tell him that you want to snog him senseless, he told himself, turning his attention to the wrapping the burns. Don't even bloody think about snogging him senseless. You're here for a night of movies, not an impromptu snogfest. 

Telling himself not to think about it didn't help, though. Especially when Simon was sitting there in nothing but his pants blushing like a child. Baz couldn't help but smirk when they made eye contact, even if it was just for a fleeting second. 

"Thanks for helping me," Simon said after Baz had finished wrapping his burns. He applied some sort of antibacterial ointment too, just in case. 

"Of course. Although, based on what you've told me, I'm sure you could've managed." 

Simon looked at him in confusion for a moment before it clicked in his head. "Oh, right. Yeah. I've had to do a fair share of patching myself up, that's for sure. It's easier now though, with the kits. We didn't really have them at the homes. I'd of had to go to the shitty infirmary. They might've kicked me out for being violent." 

Baz tried to occupy himself by putting everything back into the first aid kit, but Simon was looking at him expectantly and he couldn't focus on anything but that. 

"I'm going..." Simon bit his lip, still looking at him. Fucking hell, this boy is trying to kill me. "I'm going to go put this back. You should put on some trousers and a shirt." 

Simon giggled. "Do you want me to put on trousers and a shirt?"

Baz swallowed a lump in his throat. No. In fact, I'd much rather you lose the pants, too. "Your call, Snow. I'll be back in a moment."

Baz got up to put the first aid kit back in the bathroom. He was expecting to see Simon dressing himself when he came back in, but instead he didn't see Simon at all. He got worried for a second. 

Maybe he vanished. Maybe he thought I was too much. Christ, I chased him out of his own flat. 

But then, from behind him, Simon pounced. Baz yelped in surprise as Simon laughed and planted a series of kisses on his neck. Baz turned around and connected his lips with Simon's, pulling him into a warm embrace as they kissed. 

This went on for a minute or two before Baz became painfully aware that Simon was still in nothing but his pants. He was about to say something when Simon started unbuttoning Baz's shirt with the grace of a toddler. 

"Snow," he said, putting his hands over Simon's. 

Simon looked like he had been kicked in the gut. "S-sorry. Did...is this not okay?"

Baz noticed that Simon's hands were shaking. He led the two of them over to the bed again, sitting down to face him. "Your hands are shaking."

Simon chuckled nervously and ran his free hand through his mess of curls. "Sorry. I'm nervous."

Baz tried not to show how much that hurt. "We don't have to do anything, Snow. I thought we were just going to watch a film. I don't want to pressure you––"

Simon kissed him again. Softly. Tenderly. "I'm happy nervous, you prick. I'm happy because I really like you and... fuck you're so beautiful and I don't even know what to do with myself, if I'm being honest. And I'm nervous because you're so beautiful and I have no idea what to do because I've never felt this way about anyone and certainly never done anything like this with another bloke and––"

Baz kissed him this time, just to keep him from rambling on. "Simon," he said, his voice low and soft. He cupped Simon's jaw in his hand. "You are stunning." He kissed the mole on his neck. "Beautiful." A kiss to the one behind his ear. "Absolutely breathtaking." The one above his lip. "And I know that you have no experience in this area. I don't want to push you. I want you to do whatever you're comfortable with. I'll wait for you, Simon. I'll wait as long as you need." 

Simon smiled at him for a moment. A big, goofy smile. Then he whispered something and got all red again. 

Baz cocked his head to the side. "What? I didn't hear you."

Simon rolled his eyes and looked down, fiddling with his fingers. "I said 'I'd still quite like to see you shirtless.'"

Who was Baz to deny that request?


	24. Twenty-Four

Simon felt disoriented when he woke up. His window was closed (which was abnormal in itself) but he didn't feel particularly hot. In fact, he felt like the perfect temperature. Confused, he opened his groggy eyes and rubbed the sleep out of them so he could see clearly. He felt something on his chest. Not the burns, though. Something with weight. Something cool. 

"Baz," he smiled, seeing the dark-haired mass asleep next to him. Last night had been so perfect that Simon was almost positive that it had been a hallucination. They hadn't hadn't had sex––Simon didn't think he was quite ready for that yet––but they had done things. Good things. Wonderful things. Baz had made the most amazing noises through it all which only made Simon more sure that sex was definitely going to happen sooner rather than later. He would do mostly anything to hear Baz make those delightful little sounds again. 

"Hmph," Baz groaned, burying his face into Simon's bare chest. 

He kissed Baz's forehead and adjusted himself so he was sitting up slightly. He wanted to let Baz sleep in. It was a Saturday, after all. He had Saturdays off from work and class and surely Pitch Industries was closed on the weekends.

He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through his Instagram feed to see if there was anything interesting. There wasn't. Then he opened Snapchat and snapped a quick selfie of the two of them in bed, even though Baz was still sleeping, and sent it to Penny. He saved the picture, too, because he couldn't help but note that he was beaming harder than he had in any image he had seen of himself in a while. 

"What time is it?" Baz asked, still not moving. His voice was muffled by Simon's chest, but Simon still understood. 

"Nearly ten." 

Baz groaned again. "I'm sorry for passing out. I didn't mean to fall asleep here and intrude on your Saturday plans."

Simon ran his fingers through Baz's hair. His hair, Simon had realized, was silkier than anything he'd ever felt. He'd spent a good portion of their night last night just running his fingers through it. Baz didn't seem to complain about it. In fact, he seemed to really like it. 

"You are my Saturday plans." 

He felt Baz's chuckle vibrate through his chest. "Ever so sappy, Snow." 

Simon hummed in agreement. "Says you. You're like a bloody marshmallow."

"Only with you." 

Simon allowed himself to just run his fingers through Baz's hair for another moment before he felt like he had to get up and do something. 

"Where are you going?" Baz asked, shooting upright and looking at Simon. 

"To make you breakfast in bed, you tosser. Now you've ruined the surprise." 

Baz smirked at him. "I don't need breakfast in breakfast in bed. I can help. I don't know if you recall, but last night you almost burnt your flat and yourself to crisp trying to make a bloody chicken."

Simon rolled his eyes and bent down to deliver a kiss to Baz's cheek. "Oh, shut it. This is me repaying you for last night. Anyway, I'm just going to make some eggs."

He left to go to the kitchen, in nothing but his pants, when Baz called after him, "Eggs are still chicken, you dolt!" Then, after a moment, "Be careful." 

Simon was. Careful. He made sure to keep an eye on the pan while the eggs cooked, even while he prepared little yogurt parfaits and poured juice into two glasses. When the eggs were done, he plated them and grabbed some scones from the cupboard, along with an assortment of clotted cream and jams. He put everything on a little tray along with one of the flowers from the arrangement that Baz had brought over a few days prior, just to give it a little flourish. 

He almost tripped three times on his way back to his room, but he miraculously made it without spilling everything. He plopped the tray down on the bed and smiled triumphantly at his work. 

"Impressive, Snow. Who knew you had an eye for decorating?" Baz asked, taking in the impressively stacked tray. 

Simon shrugged and sat down next to him, already starting in on the scones. He watched Baz as he took a tentative bite of the eggs. 

"These are actually quite good. Nicely seasoned." 

"Someone's a food critic," Simon laughed, wolfing down another bite of scone. 

They stayed in bed like that for a while, eating the food and talking about anything that popped into their minds. Simon decided that this was the best Saturday morning he'd ever had.


	25. Twenty-Five

Monday's had always been a challenge to suffer through, but this Monday was worse than any other Monday that Baz had ever had the misfortune of experiencing. Not only did he have a full day of lessons, but he was also needed at the office until the evening. That meant no downtime, no time to do homework until he got home, and above (and worst of) all, it meant no Simon Snow. It was, he thought, completely and utterly ridiculous that he had already grown so attached to the clumsy, freckled barista. His mind was constantly filled with thoughts of his blue eyes, clusters of moles and freckles, and the feeling of his soft (and deliciously warm) lips. That previous Friday and Saturday had only solidified his feelings for Simon, and now he was practically drowning in them. He wondered if it would even be possible for him to get through a single day (a bloody Monday, no less) without feeling Simon's touch or hearing his voice. He could text in class when he was permitted to use his laptop, but it wasn't quite the same. Simon Snow's texts were positively riddled in spelling errors. It was less endearing when Baz couldn't understand what Simon had been attempting to say. 

He never thought he would find relief in going to the office, but the walk gave him the time to call Simon. (He would have liked to think that they were proper boyfriends now, but simply being "dating" was more than Baz could have ever hoped for, so he didn't want to push his luck.)

Simon picked up on the third ring. 

Baz smiled into his phone, realizing that he must have looked completely idiotic. Let them stare, he thought to himself as he trudged down the streets towards his father's eyesore of a building, they'll never know the joy of having Simon Snow in their lives. 

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Simon asked through the phone. 

"I'm on my way, actually. Good to know you listen when I talk to you. Really sharpening your skills, I see." 

"I listen," Simon argued. "I like seeing your lips move. And I like hearing your voice. It's a win-win, really." 

Surely the beating of Baz's heart was loud enough to make any passerby think that there was a marching band playing nearby. "I'm sorry I can't come round tonight."

"Me too." 

"I quite liked the idea of picking up where we left off, but of course my father has other plans for me tonight." It was a weak attempt at letting Simon know just how sorry he was for it.

"I already told you that it's fine, Baz. You're a very busy man."

"I wish I wasn't." 

Baz heard someone say something in the background of Simon's call, to which Simon faintly replied, "I'm fine with whatever, Pen. Just trying to have a chat with my boyfriend." 

Baz felt his face pale. His heart was racing faster now, which he didn't really think was possible. He doubted that Simon had meant for him to hear that, so he decided to brush it off. Best not to mention it, he thought to himself as he turned the corner towards the office, best just to let things be. Merlin knows that I don't need to push Simon into anything he's not comfortable with. But, on the other hand, it was Simon that called Baz his boyfriend, not the other way around. Maybe he thinks he's pushing me. 

"Sorry 'bout that," Simon said, returning his attention to the phone call. "Penny wanted to know what I wanted for dinner." He chuckled and it sent warmth shooting through Baz's body. "As if I care about bloody dinner when I'm talking to my boyfriend."

Now or never. "Snow––"

"Crap, sorry. I didn't even...it's just a word, Baz. I don't have to use it if––"

"Simon," Baz said. Sure enough, Simon stopped babbling. "You gorgeous nightmare. I want you to use it. I want to be your boyfriend. I didn't want to bring it up because I didn't want to push you into anything you're uncomfortable with." 

He heard Simon sigh in relief. "I––I haven't been uncomfortable yet, have I? Not even on Friday night when we were kissing and you––"

Baz was outside the office building now. He didn't know if his father had cameras out there, but it seemed more than likely. "I'm outside the office now, Snow." 

"Oh, right. Well...let's just leave that for another time, yeah?"

"To be continued for certain. I'll talk to you when I get off work." 

He was about to hang up when he heard Simon say, "Good luck, boyfriend. I'll talk to you later." 

Baz allowed himself one more moment to stay in this bubble of pure bliss and happiness before he straightened his tie, readjusted his shoulders, set a stony look on his face, and opened the door.


	26. Twenty-Six

With Penny holed up at the library to work on a paper, Simon didn't know what he would do with himself after school and work. He wasn't a full-time student, but he had a class that morning which had already put him in a sour mood. Then he had to go to work and Baz called while Simon was on break which only made him happy for so long. Because then he had to go back to work and remind himself that Baz would be working and studying that night. He was, unfortunately, on his own. 

Ever since his final year of sixth form, he found it hard to be alone. That was part of the reason he moved in with Penny (also, he couldn't afford a flat on his own). With Penny always around, he'd always been with someone. Even if she was off doing homework or something, she was still around. Now he had to go home by himself and just sit with his thoughts, which seemed extremely unappealing. 

It was all because of that stupid letter. He hadn't been expecting it and he surely hadn't been expecting for it to contain what it did. He didn't even really know who it had been from. It just sort of appeared one day. He tried not to think about it too often which was why he always liked to have someone with him. If he wasn't alone, it was easier to just brush it aside. And, when alone, the temptation to reread the letter and sit and think about what it meant was too strong for him to fight. He'd grown up without parents for so long so the thought of finding them seemed like a bad idea. He'd managed well enough without them all these years. What right did his father have to try and come back into his life?

He knew that he couldn't be alone that night. And, because of that, he knew where he had to turn––Agatha. 

He liked her well enough. It was still awkward to see her in person, even though they texted and called quite often. But, now that he had a boyfriend, he hoped it wouldn't be too awkward. Before Baz, seeing each other in person always lead to weird tension. He was never quite sure if Agatha wanted to start things up again (or if he did) so it was weird whenever they got too close or they accidentally brushed against each other. 

But now, with Baz in his life, he figured that it was about time to hang out with her again. What's the worst that could happen?

As it turned out, seeing her was perfectly pleasant. She suggested they go to dinner at a casual spot, knowing how much Simon hated posh places. 

"So you have a girlfriend now?" she asked once they had gotten their food. The evening had been perfectly pleasant up until this point. The conversation had been good but casual. It was like they hadn't spoken in months (which they hadn't, he supposed. Not really.) So her question caught him a bit off-guard. He wanted to tell her about Baz because he wasn't ashamed of him or anything, but he didn't know how she'd react. Coming out of the closet to his ex-girlfriend seemed like a bad idea, especially since he was just starting to feel comfortable with her again. 

"I do, yeah," he said. 

She, of course, wanted to hear more. She had that sparkle in her eyes, the one that Simon knew all too well. She was up to something, for certain. "Do you want to tell me about her?"

He shrugged. "Rather not, really. Seems a bit...awkward."

"Does Baz know about her?"

He nearly choked on his food. "Baz?"

She giggled and wrapped a lock of her hair around her finger. "I saw him the other day. We've been family friends since forever, you know. He said you two are friends now." 

"I...yeah, I guess we're friends now. You saw him the other day?"

She nodded and took a bite of her salad. "Yup. He's grown up quite well, I might add. I wouldn't mind seeing more of him."

Simon felt a blush rising to his cheeks (to his bloody ears) but it wasn't the kind of blushing he did with Baz. It was jealousy, pure and strong. It was a red-hot anger coursing through his veins. "Hm."

"I've just had the best idea," she smiled, reaching out and grabbing his hand from across the table. "Since you two are mates now, would you mind putting in a good word for me? We could even go on a double date! Me, Baz, you, and that girl that you're seeing. It would be so fun. Just like old times, huh?" 

Since Simon really had no idea what to say about any of this without giving himself away, he jus nodded and took another bite of his chicken sandwich. He had no idea what Agatha was playing at, but he didn't want any part of her schemes. He had no idea that Baz and Agatha even knew each other, let alone seen each other recently. The thought of Agatha holding Baz's hand like she was holding his was enough to make his blood boil. 

Keep it together, Simon, he said to himself, taking a deep breath. She's not doing this to be cruel. She just wants you to do what friends do for each other. This is normal. Perfectly normal.

He spent the rest of dinner trying very hard to avoid the topic of Baz.


	27. Twenty-Seven

Baz thought, based on how his evening was going, that his father was punishing him for something. He had his assistant drop off a big stack of mindless paperwork which he was somehow supposed to get done by the time Baz had to go to the meeting with him. It was a nightmare. The paperwork itself wasn't anything like the things Baz was used to doing around the office. He wasn't as important as his father (obviously) but he was usually given tasks far above the average pay grade. Looking over the weekly reports seemed too trivial for him. 

It didn't help that his mind kept wandering to thoughts of Simon Snow. Thoughts of Simon's smile made it incredibly difficult for him to focus on anything on the spreadsheets. 

By the time he was called to his father's office, he felt like he could sleep for a week straight. The numbers had burned his eyes and his hands hurt from highlighting, but he knew that he could show no weakness or annoyance in front of his father. Instead, he swallowed his pain, combed through his hair, and made his way to his father's office. He was, secretly, absolutely terrified of his father. Not only was his father's demeanor similar to that of a jagged rock, but his eyes were empty and emotionless, regardless of the situation. That emotion had left as soon as Baz's mother had died. It came back when he married Daphne, but only briefly. Baz supposed that the office just reminded him of his dead wife since it had been her father's company. She was, as Baz understood it, bred to become CEO until she decided to become a teacher instead. His father was happy to take up the mantle, even changing his name (publicly, anyway) to not raise any suspicion about his involvement. As far as the outside world was concerned, he was a Pitch through and through. 

Baz hesitantly knocked on the door. 

"Ah, yes, Tyrannus. Do come in," his father said from behind his desk. 

Baz did as he was told, taking a step into the office and closing the door behind him. "Hello, father. May I ask what this is about? We haven't another scheduled meeting for quite some time." 

His father folded his arms and leaned back in his leather chair. Baz, unsure of what to do, stood awkwardly by the door. 

"Quite right. This is a...sensitive matter. It regards the nature of your relationship with Miss Agatha Wellbelove, the heir to the Wellbelove fortune." He gave Baz no room to speak. "I have been informed that you were not as keen on dating her as I had hoped. In fact, I have received word that you left early under the false pretense that there was some sort of family emergency."

Baz felt his throat go dry and his heart beat rapidly in his chest. Crowley, please let this be it. Please don't mention Simon.

"I'm sure it was not your intention to offend her or to show that you were anything but interested, correct?"

Baz nodded. "That is correct, father. I do apologize for my behavior. I was taken aback, you see, having been told that it was a business meeting." 

"Well, I didn't want to make you nervous. I know you have had some trouble finding a woman with whom to spend your time, so I thought that keeping you in the dark about my true intentions for the dinner would be beneficial. It appears I was wrong, but I expect you to reach out to her and schedule another date. Something lavish, of course. Something that will attract the paparazzi. Having your relationship made public as soon as possible would be fantastic for business." 

Though Baz had difficulties managing his relationship with his father and his boyfriends in the past, this time would prove to be almost impossible to maintain. If he told his father that he wasn't interested in courting Agatha, his father would get mad and do heaven knows what. If he went along, he risked breaking Simon's heart, especially if the date went public. He hated the thought of Simon seeing him and Agatha together in some tabloid. But, since he couldn't argue with his father, he knew that he would have to come up with a way for Simon to be okay with it. Maybe, if he came clean to both Agatha and Simon, he and Agatha could date for public view only and he could maintain his private relationship with Simon. Then, in a month or two, Agatha could find some other suitable bachelor and his father would have nothing more to say about the subject. Of course, this plan was far from ideal, but it certainly seemed like the most realistic thing he could do at this juncture. 

"Of course, father. I will arrange it all as soon as possible. Is there anything else?"

"No, Tyrannus. You may go for the evening to tend to your studies. I, unfortunately, have been roped into plans to go to the opera with Lady Salisbury since Daphne has double-booked herself for the evening."

If he hadn't been in his father's presence, Baz would have laughed at the thought of his father sitting next to the sweet old woman for hours on end in an opera house. His father hated any performance with singing and hated the woman even more. Of course, for the sake of business, he was always perfectly amiable with the woman, but Baz knew that he resented each moment he was forced to spend with her. Baz had only met her a few times at functions, but he liked her well enough. It was obvious that she used to have a mesmerizing energy about her, back when she was young. The death of her daughter, though, had left her shattered and broken-hearted. Baz could relate to that feeling of loss all too well. 

"Good luck, sir. Thank you."

His father gave him a curt nod and returned to his computer. Baz, pleased that he was getting out of the office earlier than expected, headed home with a spring in his step because each step brought him another step closer to Tuesday when he would be able to see Simon again.


	28. Twenty-Eight

It was finally the evening and Simon Snow had never been more excited and nervous at the same time. He knew that he needed to talk to Baz about Agatha, but he also knew that he wanted to spend the night kissing every part of him that he could reach. And, if he did tell Baz about Agatha, he wasn't certain that any kissing would happen at all. 

Kiss first, talk after, he told himself as he poured a heap of shampoo in his hands. He wanted to be as clean and put-together as he could be for their date. It wasn't going to be anything special––just a movie (an actual movie, this time, not just snogging) and some take away––but he still wanted to dress to impress. Baz could put almost zero thought into an outfit and somehow still look bloody fantastic. And, as much as Simon loved Baz's suits, he was really hoping that he would wear jeans. (Just the thought of Baz in jeans was enough to make him turn the water a bit colder). 

When he got out of the shower, he spent a solid fifteen minutes trying to decide what to wear. He settled on a pair of jeans and a grey and maroon crew-cut long sleeve shirt that he found in the back of his closet. He had no idea where it had come from––it had probably made its way into his belongings at one of the care homes––but it looked nicer than most of the things he owned, so he slipped it on. He tried to do something about his messy curls but decided that tampering with them in any way might make the problem even worse. 

With Penny still off finishing her paper, he and Baz would have the privacy that Simon wanted. He kept thinking about Friday night and all of the amazing things that Baz had done to him and how he wanted to repay the favor. He still wasn't sure if he was gay, but he knew that he wanted Baz. 

Though, to be fair, how could anyone not want Baz?

So, when Baz knocked on the door right on time, Simon couldn't help but smile and blush like mad at the mere thought of what might happen later in the night. He planted a quick kiss to Baz's lips when he opened the door which earned a hum of appreciation from Baz. He helped Baz with the bags of take away and started getting out plates and utensils for them to eat off of. He figured that at least attempting to eat like a civilized human might make Baz think that he wasn't completely helpless. 

"So proper, Snow," Baz said, leaning against the counter and watching Simon move about the kitchen. 

Simon shrugged and put everything down on the table. They could watch the film later. Now, Simon wanted to hear Baz talk about his day. 

When they moved over to the small kitchen table, Simon noticed that Baz was, in fact, wearing jeans. He nearly jumped his bones right there.

"Everything okay there, Snow?"

He nodded and cleared his throat, praying that it would make the blush go away. He could feel it creeping across his face. "Yup, fine. I just...you're wearing jeans." 

"Astute observation. Your observation skills are nothing to sneeze at."

Simon rolled his eyes and scooped a large helping of food onto his plate. Baz looked at him for a moment before putting some food on his plate, as well. 

"How was your day?" Simon asked. 

Baz raised an eyebrow. "Dull. Why?"

"No reason. Just wanna hear about your day. It's not weird, you know. We are boyfriends, right? Isn't that a normal thing to ask?"

He wasn't sure why Baz was on such high alert, but it made him feel uneasy. He knew why he was anxious, but why was Baz? What was he hiding? 

"Fair. Sorry, it's just been a long day. I had three lessons and then I had to go to work for a bit. And knowing that I would get to see you tonight made it incredibly hard to focus on anything else."

Simon blushed at that. "Same," he said, trying to hide his blush by shoving a helping of food in his mouth. 

"How about you? How was your day?" 

"Fine, I guess. I had a lesson and then I had to work and I broke two mugs and spilled a whole pot of coffee. It was a bit of a mess." 

"Why do I get the feeling that you're always a bit of a mess?"

"You like it."

Baz sighed and smiled at him. "I really do."


	29. Twenty-Nine

Baz didn't want to have to tell Simon about Agatha, but he knew that he would have to. As much as he would have loved to just enjoy a nice dinner and a film, he couldn't help but think how much worse it would be if he just didn't tell Simon. The memory of that dreadful phone call was still very raw in his mind and he certainly didn't want a repeat.

They were done eating now and Simon was putting away the dishes. Baz was trying to help but it was so much nicer to just watch Simon as he hovered over the sink. Thanks to Simon's thin shirt, Baz could see his back muscles ripple as he scrubbed a plate. It was a glorious sight and far preferable to getting his hands dirty with mucky water and dish soap. 

"You're staring," Simon said without even turning around. 

Baz huffed and rolled his eyes. "In your dreams, Snow." 

"I can literally feel your eyes on me. Like what you see? Hmmm?"

Maybe I'll tell him later, Baz thought to himself as he blushed, imagining pulling Simon's shirt over his head and discarding it on the floor. Baz thought that Simon's clothes looked good but that they would look so much better forgotten on the floor somewhere. And, with Simon's roommate out of the house, they had the whole flat to themselves. 

"I do," Baz said, feeling his walls crumble into dust with each second he started at his boyfriend. His walls crumbled to the point where he found himself giving into the magnetic pull he always felt, the feeling that left him helplessly magnetized to Simon. He moved over behind him and wrapped his arms around Simon's waist, burrowing his face down into the crook of Simon's neck. Allowing himself to get so close to Simon was, as it turned out, a terrible idea because then Baz found himself inhaling a scent that was so incredibly Simon that he got hard right then and there. There was no way that he could just watch a movie now. Instead, he starting kissing Simon's neck which earned him a muffled groan in response. 

Simon dropped the dish he was cleaning, sending it to the bottom of the sink with a loud crash. It might've broken, but Baz couldn't really bring himself to care because Simon was contorting himself to plant a kiss on Baz's mouth and when that happened, the world just seemed to melt away. Simon turned himself fully around and wrapped his arms around Baz's neck, deepening the kiss as he went along. 

He started doing that thing with his chin, the thing that drove Baz crazy for some unknown reason, which made Baz hum in agreement. They carried on like that––with frantic, hungry kisses––for a minute or two before Baz felt something tugging on his jeans. He pulled away and saw that Simon was fumbling around with Baz's belt.

"Snow," he breathed. 

Simon didn't stop. 

"Simon."

Simon's hands froze and he looked at Baz with eyes full of fear. Baz instantly regretted saying anything at all, but he had no idea what to think of all of this. The last time trousers had been out of the equation, they were Simon's. Even then, he still had his pants on. Baz knew that Simon was still new to all of this––to wanting to kiss a guy--and Baz couldn't help but think that this was just Simon's way of trying to do what was expected of him. Baz wanted to tell him that he really didn't have to do that, not if he didn't want to, and that he was fine just making out. 

It was a lie, of course. Baz wanted everything. Anything that Simon was willing to give him. 

"Is this...did I do something wrong?" 

Baz felt his heart pang in his chest. Why is he so adorable? "N--no, of course not. I just...you're so new to all of this and I don't want you to feel like I'm pressuring you because of what happened last time. I'm perfectly content just kissing you, Simon. Honest. We don't have to do anything that you're not ready for." 

Simon kissed the tip of Baz's (slightly crooked) nose and smiled at him. "You think too much."

Baz rolled his eyes. "Some of us actually use our brains, Snow."

"Stop trying to deflect."

Baz felt his face soften.

It was so trivial, Simon noting that, but it was also the first time that anyone had ever said anything like that to him before. The first time that anyone had known him well enough to memorize his behavior, to know exactly what he meant even when his words were mean and sarcastic. None of Baz's previous boyfriends had ever really seen him, not in the way that Simon saw him. None of them had taken the time to really observe him like Simon had. It made Baz's heart soar in his chest––it made him feel like he could fucking fly. 

I'm in love with him, he realized, trying to blink back tears. 

He'd never been in love before. He'd been infatuated before, of course. He'd gotten on perfectly fine with his previous boyfriends, but he'd never been in love. It seemed like just another thing that he could never have––something he didn't deserve. He still wasn't sure that he deserved it, but then he realized that he loved Simon. It didn't mean that Simon loved him back.

Still, it felt like too much. Surely he wasn't allowed to fall in love this quickly? They still hadn't seen each other naked. They hadn't even had sex yet. 

That doesn't matter, he told himself. He'd seen boyfriends naked before, been naked with them, but he hadn't loved them. The sex had been nice, of course, but it had never set his heart and mind into overdrive like Simon's words could. Like Simon's smile could. Like Simon could. 

"Baz?" Simon asked, stroking Baz's cheek, catching the tears that Baz hadn't even realized were falling. "A--are you okay? You're crying. I'm...I'm so sorry. I wasn't--you can go. If you need to. I wasn't trying to upset you. I won't do it again. Please, Baz. I'm so––"

"Simon," Baz said, a smile creeping on his face. He let out a nervous chuckle and put one hand on top of Simon's and the other on Simon's beating heart. 

"I'm sorry," Simon whispered. 

"Don't be."

"I made you cry."

"They're happy tears, Snow. I'm just...I feel so happy right now."

Simon cocked his head to the side. "Because I fumbled around with your belt like an idiot?"

"No, you nightmare. Because you see me. You really see me." 

Simon furrowed his brow. "'Course I see you. How could I not see you?"

"No one's ever seen me before. Not like you do." 

"They're idiots, then. You're bloody gorgeous. And smart. And kind. And...Christ, I'm shit with words, but you're perfect, alright? You're bloody perfect and...fuck. I'm sorry you had to wait so long for someone to appreciate you." 

Baz was sure that his heart would pump right out of his chest. "Can I say something completely and utterly insane? Something that will you make me think that I'm totally off my rocker, should be locked up in an asylum?"

"'Course, Baz. You can tell me anything." 

Baz took a deep breath and stared right into Simon's eyes. They anchored him, made him even more sure of what he was about to say. 

"I am completely and helplessly in love with you."


	30. Thirty

"I am completely and helplessly in love with you." 

Simon had no idea what to say to that. 

How was he supposed to know if he was in love or just in like? He'd never been in love before––never been loved. Not in the way that Baz loved him. What did it mean to be in love? Was there some sort of checklist he had to fill out before deciding? Was it enough that Baz filled practically every part of his mind until he felt like he would just drown in thoughts of him? Was it enough that his fingers ached to touch Baz, even when he was two feet away? 

"I..." 

Simon Snow had never been good with words, especially with ones that had so much power. 

"You don't have to say it back, Snow. I just wanted to tell you because, well, it's true. I love you and I know that it's terrifying and I apologize if I've made the evening awkward, but it felt right to me in the moment. I...I should go, I think. Give you some time to process."

Baz started to go, started to walk right out the door. 

Before Simon could even register what he was doing, he was sprinting after him, grabbing his wrist, looking into his eyes, begging him to stay. "Baz," he huffed. He was breathless but he wasn't sure why. 

The care homes had taught him a lot of things––how to be strong, how to punch, how to hide things, how to ignore people. The care homes had never taught him how to love or how to have a family. When Penny first bounded into his life, Simon was terrified because he'd never had a friend before, let alone a friend that would travel to the ends of the earth for him. A friend that he would travel to the ends of the earth for. He'd cross any line for her now, and that was still terrifying to him. It had taken him months of internal pep-talks to have the courage to tell her that he loved her because he'd never said that before. Even today, Penny was the only person he'd ever said those words to. Was he allowed to love more than one person or was there some kind of limit? It would make sense. If there was a limit. If his parents had loved each other, really loved each other, that would be why they'd given him up––because there was only room in their hearts for each other. 

But, oh God, when he'd told Penny how he felt, her face lit up and she gave him the biggest hug he'd ever received. It had felt so fucking good to tell her.

"Don't go," he begged. He thought about his parents, about Agatha, about the care homes. Everyone except for Penny always left him. He didn't want Baz to leave, too. "I...I agree."

Baz raised an eyebrow, studying eyes. 

Like he was trying to find something. (What?)

"You...you agree? With what, exactly?"

This was not going the way that Simon intended it to go. "With what you said."

"About you needing time to process?"

Simon growled and used his free hand to tug on his curls in frustration. "No. With...Christ, I agree, okay?"

He watched Baz's face as Baz processed this, as he tried to figure out what Simon meant. When he did, his eyes opened wide. Like golfballs. 

"You--you love me?"

Simon nodded. "I do. I...it's a long story, but I can't really say those words, y'know? I'm working on it. But--'course I do, Baz."

Baz looked like he was about to say something, maybe ask Simon why he couldn't actually say the words, so Simon kissed him instead, swallowing every thought that Baz was trying to think. He smiled against Baz's lips and brought him closer until there was no distinction between the two. After a moment or two, Simon decided to try undoing Baz's belt again. If he couldn't tell Baz how much he loved him, maybe he could show him. He'd always been better at doing than saying, anyway. 

But then, when Baz broke their kiss the second Simon's hands went to his belt, Simon thought he'd gotten this all wrong. 

"Bedroom," Baz said, his words light and breathless and dead sexy. 

Simon hummed in agreement and connected their lips again, hoping to get to his room without having to remove his lips from Baz's for even a moment. It was semi-successful, even though Simon accidentally knocked a lamp off the table by the couch. 

I'll fix it later, he told himself, returning his focus to getting to his room. 

Once inside, they broke apart so Simon could close the door. Then it dawned on him that he had absolutely no fucking idea what he was supposed to do now. The care homes certainly never taught him anything about this. 

"I--c'mere," he said. Baz obliged, moving back towards Simon and connecting his lips to Simon's. Simon smiled against his mouth and started fumbling with the buttons of Baz's shirt, taking extra care not to tug to hard or pop them off. He kissed Baz's neck as he fumbled with the top button and then decided to kiss every inch of skin that was left exposed with each unbuttoning. Baz let out a groan that Simon quite liked, so he nipped at the skin around Baz's belly, just to get a rise out of him. 

Baz tugged at the hem of Simon's shirt, his cool fingers slipping underneath the fabric and sending a shiver down Simon's spine. Simon moaned and lifted his arms above his head, allowing Baz to remove his shirt. 

Baz pushed Simon down onto the bed, straddling him. Simon could feel Baz's hardness with the new contact, and he certainly wasn't protesting. Baz started to kiss his bare chest in random places. Simon opened his eyes to see why he was targeting those specific places, but then saw that they weren't random at all. 

Every scar, every mole, every imperfection. That's what Baz was kissing. Simon quite enjoyed it, so he didn't say anything. Instead, he just closed his eyes again, let his head fall back against the mattress, and let Baz carry on.


	31. Thirty-One

Waking up with a sun-kissed Simon Snow curled around him was Baz's new way of waking up. He smiled as he watched Simon's chest rise and fall with each breath, fighting the urge to kiss the moles that surged with each heave of his chest. He'd kissed them last night. Kissed Simon last night. Kissed him so hard that he was sure that his lips had bruised, kissed him so hard that Simon now adorned small marks over his body as a reminder that last night wasn't a dream. 

"Mornin', Baz," Simon hummed, his eyes fluttering open.

"Good morning, love."

Simon beamed at him and planted a kiss on his lips. "Got anything on today?"

"Class this afternoon," Baz sighed, tracing aimless patterns up and down Simon's arms.

"Working tonight?" 

Baz shook his head. "Fortunately, no I am not. My father's going on a business trip today so I probably won't be needed until he returns."

Simon smiled at him and those blue eyes lit up in a way that made Baz's stomach swirl giddily in his stomach. "Mm, so maybe we can do this again this week." 

Baz raised an eyebrow. 

"I--shit. I didn't mean--I mean--"

Baz gave him a quick kiss, just to shut him up. "Quite fine, Snow. I'd love to go out this week. Though, I would also love a repeat of last night. If you're offering." 

Since Simon's face flushed, Baz decided that the idea was something they both were interested in. The previous night had been, a one word, magical. Baz had never had sex like that before––sex with such intimacy. He had also never been so nervous (but excited) during sex before, but Simon's adorable nervousness made him feel better.

"What time do you have to go?"

Baz checked his watch. "I should probably go in a few minutes. I need to change and grab my stuff for class."

Simon frowned as Baz pulled himself out of bed, still fully naked. Baz felt Simon's eyes on him the whole time. 

"Like what you see, Snow?"

"You know I do," Simon smiled. "I wish you didn't have to go."

"I know, but we have the whole week to go out. We can get coffee, go to the movies, go to a nice restaurant––"

"Can't do a posh meal."

Baz, who was in the middle of putting his trousers on, his back to Simon to give him a better view, turned to face the bed. "Why not?"

"Don't have a suit," Simon shrugged. 

"I'll get you a suit." 

"Please don't. I don't need you to buy me things." 

"But I want to buy you things. Plus, it's more for me, anyway. I really want to see you in a suit." 

"Fine. But don't make a habit of buying me things."

"Don't you have work today?"

Simon's eyes widened in horror. "Crap! Jesus--fuck, Baz! What time is it?"

"Quarter past nine."

"Fuck!"

Simon leapt out of bed and frantically scrambled around his room, trying to find suitable clothes. Baz watched him with a smile on his face, finding Simon's chaotic mad-dash to get ready incredibly entertaining. 

When he was finally dressed (his shirt was on inside out for a moment), he gave Baz a quick peck on his cheek. 

"I...I'll text you, okay?"

"Okay," Baz smiled. Simon started to head out, but Baz spun him around and gave him one final kiss. "And Simon?"

Simon looked up at him expectantly. 

"I love you."

Simon beamed at him and nodded as if to say he loved him, too. 

It didn't matter if Simon couldn't say the words back yet––Baz could feel that he meant it.


	32. Thirty-Two

As the week went on, Simon found it harder to concentrate at work. He knew that he needed to tell Baz about Agatha, and that was becoming increasingly obvious when she actually showed up at The Daily Grind one day. She had never gone to the shop before, so he knew that something was up the moment she stepped in through the door. His boss, Ebb, turned to him and smiled, pointing at Agatha as she saw Simon standing behind the counter and quickly made her way over. 

"That your girlfriend?"

Simon shook his head. "Nope, but I have a feeling she's about to talk to me about my boyfriend." 

Ebb nodded in understanding and disappeared (to wherever Ebb managed to run off to), leaving Simon alone at the counter to face Agatha by himself. 

He put on his best smile as she approached the register. "Hiya, welcome to The Daily Grind. What can I get you?"

Agatha stuck her lip out in a pout. Simon had probably found it attractive at one point in time, but certainly not right now. "It's me, Si."

He'd always hated that nickname. Simon was the one thing that was his. It was written on his arm when he was first dropped off at a care home. Simon Snow. 

"I'm supposed to say that to everyone who comes up."

"Oh, right. Well then, now that that's out of the way... have you spoken to Baz yet?"

Simon rolled his eyes. "No. I haven't, uh, really seen him. Recently. Like to talk about it." 

"Right. Well--"

The door chimed, signaling that another customer was coming in. Simon glanced at the door, silently trying to lure the customer to the counter so he could take their order instead of dealing with Agatha. Any customer would do––he would even take a grumpy woman running late as long as they interrupted this oh-so-awkward encounter. Unfortunately, the customer that walked through the door was not a customer at all––it was Baz. Simon tried to hide his annoyance because he would really, given it were any other time of the bloody day, be elated to see his boyfriend come in, but now it seemed that his presence would just add to the awkwardness. 

Baz saw him and smiled a bit (as big of a smile as he could muster in such a public place) as he walked up to the counter. Simon tugged on the curls that hung out from the top of his visor as Baz joined the "queue."

Agatha turned to tell the new customer that she was just about done "ordering," but when she saw that it was Baz, her eyes got big and her smile was back in full force. She even started to twirl her hair around her fucking finger, like that would get Baz's real, undivided attention. 

"Oh, Baz! Hiya," she giggled. "Fancy seeing you here, huh?" 

Simon swore that he saw Baz sneer for a second, but he quickly pushed the thought from his mind. He had more important things to focus on––like somehow ending this encounter before it got out of hand. 

"Snow," Baz said, looking straight through Agatha. 

"Baz."

Agatha looked between the two of them as they stared at each other. It looked like she was trying to figure out some sort of complicated equation. "I'll just sit over there. Give you two a minute to discuss, you know, whatever comes to mind?" She winked at Simon like that would help him understand what the fuck she was doing, and sauntered off to find a table, her hips swishing dramatically as she walked away. 

Baz approached the counter, glaring at Agatha from the corner of his eye. "I didn't know she frequented this cafe."

"She doesn't. She's just...she wants me to talk to you."

Baz raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What about?"

"I think she wants me to be her wingman? Talk her up to you, get you to ask her out. She said something about a double date."

"I imagine that a double date would be quite awkward, considering that I would be both of your dates."

"Well, yeah. I imagine so. She thinks I'm dating a girl, though. I haven't really...told her? About us, I mean. Not that I'm ashamed or embarrassed or anything. It's just that we have a weird history and now I think she fancies you and––"

Baz shot him a look, a look that meant you're babbling. 

Simon blushed. "Right. Sorry." 

"You've nothing to apologize for, Simon. I've known her since we were young. I know how she can...well, how she can get when she wants something."

Simon stared at him for a moment, trying to digest his words. Wants something kept running through his mind. He knew Agatha wanted him to play wingman or what have you, but the thought of her wanting Baz made him feel a bit queasy. Baz wasn't something that she could want. Not now. Not when things were going so well in this relationship. The problem was that he knew Agatha pretty well too, and he knew exactly how she got when she "wanted" something. For a moment, she had wanted Simon, so they had gone out. She had the world wrapped around her finger. She could make the stars align if that's what she wanted, or she could tear everything apart. She had looks, money, power, and more. She was dangerous if left unchecked, and even more dangerous if she thought she could try and force her way into Baz's heart. Simon simply wouldn't allow it. He'd been pushed around enough, but he wasn't about to let Agatha fuck up everything he'd built with Baz. Being with Baz was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he certainly wasn't about to let the likes of Agatha Wellbelove come strutting in and blow everything up. 

Baz must've noticed that he was getting fidgety and riled up, because he smiled softly like he understood exactly what was going on his Simon's head. "It'll be okay."

"You know her," Simon said through gritted teeth. "You know perfectly well that it won't." 

"We'll manage."

"You aren't even surprised? That she's interested in you?"

Baz shrugged like he was trying to be casual, but Simon could see that there was something else going on. Something deeper under that cool exterior.

"I suppose I knew. My father tried to set us up recently." 

"What!?"

Baz glared at him, reminding him not to get too loud or obvious with Agatha nearby. Simon took a deep breath, trying to collect himself. Trying to relax his hands which had somehow turned to tightly-wound fists. 

"It's not like it's going to work out. I'm gay, remember?" 

Simon opened his mouth to say something, but then another customer came in and he knew that he had to get back to work. "Just order something, yeah? I can't talk about this now. Not at work."

Baz nodded and pulled out his wallet.

While he ordered his drink, Simon couldn't help but think about how much he was dreading the rest of this conversation.


	33. Thirty-Three

I've never seen so much tension in the bloody air.

It was hanging thick, like a fog, when Baz stepped into Simon Snow's flat later that night to discuss Agatha fucking Wellbelove and everything that had happened in the cafe earlier that day. Baz could see the the anger and confusion all over his boyfriend's face. It was practically rolling off him in heavy, sticky fumes. He looked like he might explode, or maybe implode, with all this pent up frustration. Baz really had no idea what to say––where to begin.

"I want you to explain it to me," Simon said. He was still standing, like all the rage forced him upright. 

Baz nodded and tried to collect his thoughts, tried to push past all the noise and get to the things that really mattered. He knew that he had withheld the truth, but it didn't seem like he deserved this rage for it. He hadn't lied to Simon, and he certainly wasn't dating Agatha. He was gay, which Simon knew perfectly well, so he couldn't really understand how any of this mattered. 

"I've known the Wellbeloves since I was young. Agatha's father is one of my father's business associates, you see, so I've seen her at functions and whatnot. I haven't spoken or thought about her in ages, so I was surprised when my father asked me to go to dinner with her––"

"You went to fucking dinner with her?"

Shit. Baz nodded. 

"Before we started going out, right?"

"Uh, no. Recently. But I thought it was a business meeting, nothing more. I had no idea that my father was trying to set us up in a romantic sense." 

Simon stared at him for a moment like he was trying to get his words to cooperate. "You--you told her, yeah? That you're gay? Or that you're not interested?" 

Baz felt tears stinging his eyes. "No," he said, his voice so soft that it was barely audible. "I couldn't. You know I couldn't." 

Simon scoffed. "Good. Right then, at least now I know that you're not just fucking lying again."

"What do you mean? When did I lie to you?"

"I told you that she asked me to play wingman for her."

Baz had forgotten about that. So, as it turned out, Simon had only asked him if he'd turned her down to make sure that everything was in order, that he wasn't just making things up to try and keep him happy. Baz felt a knife slice right through his heart. 

"Right. I mean...it's complicated, Snow. My father can't know that I'm gay, can't know that I'm seeing you. If Wellbelove finds out, then my father might, and I can't run that risk." 

"So what? You're just going to have a pretend relationship with her? While you're dating me?"

"I wouldn't really be dating her. It would be for show, nothing more. Then, after a while, we could break up and she could find happiness with some other bloke that's straight and interested in her." 

Simon sighed and collapsed onto the sofa, running his fingers through his hair in a huff. Baz watched him, unsure if he should sit down next to him and take his hands. He would have liked to do that, but in all honesty, Simon's anger was making Baz angry, too. Simon had, in Baz's mind, no right to come down on him like this. Baz hadn't cheated on him or lied to him. This was all just a misunderstanding. This was all because Simon didn't understand how things got handled in the real world, because Simon didn't live in reality. Not really. 

"And I didn't lie to you," Baz said, his voice angry and jaded now. 

Simon's head snapped up to look at him, his blue eyes rimmed with red as tears formed. "Excuse me?" 

"I didn't lie to you. I didn't tell you, yes, but I didn't lie to you. So you can't try and make me feel bad about it. Not for lying."

Simon laughed.

Was this all funny, somehow? 

"Oh, right, my bad. Yeah, keeping a fucking relationship from me isn't lying! I've got no reason to be upset with you, have I? This is just another thing that a fucking Pitch does to get his way in the world, innit? Do you even care that your secrecy is breaking us apart?"

"Don't you dare bring the Pitch name into this," Baz warned. 

"I just...I'm such an idiot. I actually--I believed you." 

Baz, feeling like this was going somewhere different now (somewhere more tender, maybe, now that Simon's voice was normal again) sat next to him on the sofa, turning to face him. He saw those tears up close now, saw how they ran down Simon's face. He wanted to kiss them away. 

"Believed I what?" He was whispering now. It felt right, given how close they were. 

"That you loved me," Simon croaked. 

I do, he wanted to say. I love you more than I have ever loved anything in my entire life. I love you more than the air I breathe. I'd hang the stars, the bloody moon for you if you asked. 

"I do love you, Simon."

Simon shook his head. "I don't know much about it, but I know that this isn't what you're supposed to do. You...you hurt me, Baz. And I know you're not supposed to hurt the people you love." 

The air was so thick that it was suffocating him. Simon's words were knives pushing through his skin, filling him with a pain that he'd never experienced. Certainly he didn't mean that. Certainly he knew how Baz felt about him--how hearing that pain in Simon's voice was tearing him apart. 

"I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry if I did. Truly. I'm so in love with you that it hurts sometimes, Simon. Especially in this moment when you don't seem to believe that I'm desperately in love with you."

Simon grew quiet for a moment. "I...I think this happened too fast. And I think that it's impossible for you to be with me right now with everything going on with your dad. I don't know what it's like to have a family, but I know that family's supposed to be important. More important than anything. I'm not worth it. I'm not worth you getting you in trouble with your's."

The tears were pouring now, from both of them. Baz took Simon's hands in his own, just to reassure himself that Simon was still there. 

For the moment, anyway. 

"I don't know how else to tell you how much you matter to me, Simon. I choose you, okay? Over him. Over everything. I choose you." 

"I know. I can't let you though," he said, shaking his head, his curls bouncing around. "I'm not gonna be the one who stands in the way of you and your family. It's not fair. Or right. For either of us." 

"What does that mean?" 

"It means..." he took a deep breath, retracting his hands from Baz's grasp. "It means that we're ending this."

That anger that Baz had buried was boiling up again, this time in full fucking force. It was swallowing him whole. "We're not doing anything," he said, suddenly on his feet. "This is all you. Your choice. Who even fucking knew that you could make one?"

"I--"

"Don't. Don't even start with me. I'm just surprised you managed to find the words to say it. Christ knows that there are plenty of other things you can't seem to bring yourself to say."

His walls were rebuilding themselves. Everything he'd knocked down, every part of him that he'd let Simon see, it was gone. His defenses were back now and they were in full force. His mouth was firing out every insult, every evil thing he could think of before he could even try to stop it. Simon's sobbing, Simon's pathetic voice begging him to stop did nothing but press him forward. Encourage him, even. It was damn good that Simon was hurting. 

Let him hurt. Let him feel even one ounce of what I'm feeling right now.

"I'm glad to finally be rid of you. I'm glad that I'll have my nights free to stop dealing with your pathetic nightmares about care homes and your little moments where you fall silent because of whatever fucking 'trauma' you think you've endured. I've had a lot of shitty boyfriends before, but you, Snow, were by far the worst. At least the rest of them could string a bloody sentence together without falling apart. At least they were good enough to have parents and--"

What the fuck have I done?

He had been so obsessed with forcing himself to close up again that he hadn't even registered what was coming out of his mouth. His hand flew up to cover his mouth like that could take back what he'd said, but it couldn't. He knew that it couldn't. He'd fucked up. Royally. He'd crossed the line from dick to complete and utter arsehole. He wanted to apologize, he wanted to get down on his knees and beg Simon to forgive him. 

"Get the fuck out of here before I run you through," a voice said from behind him. He turned and saw Penny standing in the doorway, her backpack slung around her shoulder. 

Simon was unmoving in a ball on the sofa, shaking and sobbing. 

"I--" Baz tried. 

"Out. Now." 

He nodded, sending one more glance towards Simon, and sprinted out the door.


End file.
